"Ah, Ramsey--a precious seedy-looking customer. 'Well, sir,' says old Fogg, looking at him very fierce--you know his way--'well, sir, have you come to settle?' 'Yes, I have, sir,' said Ramsey, putting his hand in his pocket and bringing out the money; 'the debt's two pound ten, and the costs three pound five, and here it is, sir,' and he sighed like bricks as he lugged out the money, done up in a bit of blotting-paper. Old Fogg looked first at the money, and then at him, and then he coughed in his rum way, so that I knew something was coming. 'You don't know there's a declaration filed, which increases the costs materially, I suppose?' said Fogg. 'You don't say that, sir,' said Ramsey, starting back; 'the time was only out last night, sir.' 'I do say it, though,' said Fogg; 'my clerk's just gone to file it. Hasn't Mr. Jackson gone to file that declaration in Bullman and Ramsey, Mr. Wicks?' Of course I said yes, and then Fogg coughed again, and looked at Ramsey. 'My God!' said Ramsey; 'and here have I nearly driven myself mad, scraping this money together, and all to no purpose.' 'None at all,' said Fogg, coolly; 'so you had better go back and scrape some more together, and bring it here in time.' 'I can't get it, by God!' said Ramsey, striking the desk with his fist. 'Don't bully me, sir,' said Fogg, getting into a passion on purpose. 'I am not bullying you, sir,' said Ramsey. 'You are,' said Fogg; 'get out, sir; get out of this office, sir, and come back, sir, when you know how to behave yourself.' Well, Ramsey tried to speak, but Fogg wouldn't let him, so he put the money in his pocket and sneaked out. The door was scarcely shut when old Fogg turned round to me, with a sweet smile on his face, and drew the declaration out of his coat pocket. 'Here, Wicks,' said Fogg, 'take a cab and go down to the Temple as quick as you can and file that. The costs are quite safe, for he's a steady man with a large family, at a salary of five-and- twenty shillings a week; and if he gives us a warrant of attorney, as he must in the end, I know his employers will see it paid, so we may as well get all we can out of him, Mr. Wicks; it's a Christian act to do it, Mr. Wicks, for with his large family and small income he'll be all the better for a good lesson against getting into debt--won't he, Mr. Wicks, won't he?' and he smiled so good-naturedly as he went away that it was delightful to see him. 'He is a capital man of business,' said Wicks, in a tone of the deepest admiration; 'capital, isn't he?'" Mr. Fogg, we are told, was an elderly, pimply-faced, vegetable diet sort of man, in a black coat, and dark-mixtured trousers; and Mr. Dodson was a plump, portly, stern-looking man, with a loud voice. And it was from these worthies that Mr. Pickwick had received a letter dated the 28th of August, 1827.