‘Only two in our kitchen,’ said Mr. Muzzle; ‘cook and ‘ouse-maid. We keep a boy to do the dirty work, and a gal besides, but they dine in the wash’us.’ ‘Oh, they dines in the wash’us, do they?’ said Mr. Weller. ‘Yes,’ replied Mr. Muzzle, ‘we tried ‘em at our table when they first come, but we couldn’t keep ‘em. The gal’s manners is dreadful vulgar; and the boy breathes so very hard while he’s eating, that we found it impossible to sit at table with him.’ ‘Young grampus!’ said Mr. Weller. ‘Oh, dreadful,’ rejoined Mr. Muzzle; ‘but that is the worst of country service, Mr. Weller; the juniors is always so very savage. This way, sir, if you please, this way.’ Preceding Mr. Weller, with the utmost politeness, Mr. Muzzle conducted him into the kitchen. ‘Mary,’ said Mr. Muzzle to the pretty servant-girl, ‘this is Mr. Weller; a gentleman as master has sent down, to be made as comfortable as possible.’ ‘And your master’s a knowin’ hand, and has just sent me to the right place,’ said Mr. Weller, with a glance of admiration at Mary. ‘If I wos master o’ this here house, I should alvays find the materials for comfort vere Mary wos.’ Lor, Mr. Weller!’ said Mary blushing. ‘Well, I never!’ ejaculated the cook. ‘Bless me, cook, I forgot you,’ said Mr. Muzzle. ‘Mr. Weller, let me introduce you.’ ‘How are you, ma’am?’ said Mr. Weller. ‘Wery glad to see you, indeed, and hope our acquaintance may be a long ‘un, as the gen’l’m’n said to the fi’ pun’ note.’ When this ceremony of introduction had been gone through, the cook and Mary retired into the back kitchen to titter, for ten minutes; then returning, all giggles and blushes, they sat down to dinner. Mr. Weller’s easy manners and conversational powers had such irresistible influence with his new friends, that before the dinner was half over, they were on a footing of perfect intimacy, and in possession of a full account of the delinquency of Job Trotter. ‘I never could a-bear that Job,’ said Mary. ‘No more you never ought to, my dear,’ replied Mr. Weller. ‘Why not?’ inquired Mary. ‘’Cos ugliness and svindlin’ never ought to be formiliar with elegance and wirtew,’ replied Mr. Weller. ‘Ought they, Mr. Muzzle?’ ‘Not by no means,’ replied that gentleman. Here Mary laughed, and said the cook had made her; and the cook laughed, and said she hadn’t. ‘I ha’n’t got a glass,’ said Mary. ‘Drink with me, my dear,’ said Mr. Weller. ‘Put your lips to this here tumbler, and then I can kiss you by deputy.’ ‘For shame, Mr. Weller!’ said Mary. ‘What’s a shame, my dear?’ ‘Talkin’ in that way.’ ‘Nonsense; it ain’t no harm. It’s natur; ain’t it, cook?’