A heavy footstep was heard upon the stairs, and Jack Hopkins presented himself. He wore a black velvet waistcoat, with thunder-and-lightning buttons; and a blue striped shirt, with a white false collar. ‘You’re late, Jack?’ said Mr. Benjamin Allen. ‘Been detained at Bartholomew’s,’ replied Hopkins. ‘Anything new?’ ‘No, nothing particular. Rather a good accident brought into the casualty ward.’ ‘What was that, sir?’ inquired Mr. Pickwick. ‘Only a man fallen out of a four pair of stairs’ window; but it’s a very fair case indeed.’ ‘Do you mean that the patient is in a fair way to recover?’ inquired Mr. Pickwick. ‘No,’ replied Mr. Hopkins carelessly. ‘No, I should rather say he wouldn’t. There must be a splendid operation, though, to-morrow-- magnificent sight if Slasher does it.’ ‘You consider Mr. Slasher a good operator?’ said Mr. Pickwick. ‘Best alive,’ replied Hopkins. ‘Took a boy’s leg out of the socket last week--boy ate five apples and a gingerbread cake--exactly two minutes after it was all over, boy said he wouldn’t lie there to be made game of, and he’d tell his mother if they didn’t begin.’ ‘Dear me!’ said Mr. Pickwick, astonished. ‘Pooh! That’s nothing, that ain’t,’ said Jack Hopkins. ‘Is it, Bob?’ ‘Nothing at all,’ replied Mr. Bob Sawyer. ‘By the bye, Bob,’ said Hopkins, with a scarcely perceptible glance at Mr. Pickwick’s attentive face, ‘we had a curious accident last night. A child was brought in, who had swallowed a necklace.’ ‘Swallowed what, Sir?’ interrupted Mr. Pickwick. ‘A necklace,’ replied Jack Hopkins. ‘Not all at once, you know, that would be too much--you couldn’t swallow that, if the child did--eh, Mr. Pickwick? ha, ha!’ Mr. Hopkins appeared highly gratified with his own pleasantry, and continued--‘No, the way was this. Child’s parents were poor people who lived in a court. Child’s eldest sister bought a necklace--common necklace, made of large black wooden beads. Child being fond of toys, cribbed the necklace, hid it, played with it, cut the string, and swallowed a bead. Child thought it capital fun, went back next day, and swallowed another bead.’ ‘Bless my heart,’ said Mr. Pickwick, ‘what a dreadful thing! I beg your pardon, Sir. Go on.’