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Updated: May 21, 2025
By-and-by, reporters of Congressional debates being few and very indifferent, his employer, Claypole, said to him, "You seem able to do everything that is wanted: pray, could you not do these Congressional Reports for us better than this drunken Callender, who gives us so much trouble?" Mr. Gales replied, with his usual modesty, that he did not know what he could do, but that he would try.
Claypole looked into the porter-pot with an aspect of deep wisdom; and having well shaken its contents, nodded condescendingly to Charlotte, and took a draught, wherewith he appeared greatly refreshed. He was meditating another, when the sudden opening of the door, and the appearance of a stranger, interrupted him. The stranger was Mr. Fagin.
The lady faints away at the doors of charitable publicans, and the gentleman being accommodated with three-penny worth of brandy to restore her, lays an information next day, and pockets half the penalty. Sometimes Mr. Claypole faints himself, but the result is the same. Mr. and Mrs.
'Is he in a good way of business; that's where it is! responded Noah, winking one of his little eyes. 'The top of the tree; employs a power of hands; has the very best society in the profession. 'Regular town-maders? asked Mr. Claypole. 'Not a countryman among 'em; and I don't think he'd take you, even on my recommendation, if he didn't run rather short of assistants just now, replied Fagin.
Through these streets, Noah Claypole walked, dragging Charlotte after him; now stepping into the kennel to embrace at a glance the whole external character of some small public-house; now jogging on again, as some fancied appearance induced him to believe it too public for his purpose.
Noah Claypole, or Morris Bolter as the reader pleases, punctually followed the directions he had received, which Master Bates being pretty well acquainted with the locality were so exact that he was enabled to gain the magisterial presence without asking any question, or meeting with any interruption by the way.
'Don't they holler out a good deal, and scratch sometimes? asked Noah, shaking his head. 'I don't think that would answer my purpose. Ain't there any other line open? 'Stop! said Fagin, laying his hand on Noah's knee. 'The kinchin lay. 'What's that? demanded Mr. Claypole.
I think, after all, Noah Claypole isn't so very uncommon a picture of the way that your lordly sex turn round and cast all the blame on ours. You will never make me believe in a protracted flirtation between a gentleman and lady, where at least half the blame does not lie on his lordship's side.
Sowerberry having gone out to tea and supper: and Noah Claypole not being at any time disposed to take upon himself a greater amount of physical exertion than is necessary to a convenient performance of the two functions of eating and drinking, the shop was not closed, although it was past the usual hour of shutting-up. Mr.
Don't spare him, Bumble. 'No, I will not, sir, replied the beadle. And the cocked hat and cane having been, by this time, adjusted to their owner's satisfaction, Mr. Bumble and Noah Claypole betook themselves with all speed to the undertaker's shop. Here the position of affairs had not at all improved.
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