The gentleman with the uncombed head appeared quite satisfied with
this mute announcement of their business, and, producing a fiat stone
bottle, which might hold a couple of quarts, from beneath his bedstead,
filled out three glasses of gin, which Job Trotter and Sam disposed of in a
most workmanlike manner.
"Any more?" said the whistling gentleman.
"No more," replied Job Trotter.
Mr. Pickwick paid, the doorwas unbolted, and out they came; the
uncombed gentleman bestowing a friendly nod upon Mr. Roker, who
happened be passing at the moment.
Illustratie:
A Whistling Shop in the Fleet
A Whistling Shop in this Fleet.
Drawn by I. ér3 R. G. Cruikshank
