The appearance of Mr Bradley Headstone at the very gathering instituted to mark his passing was an occurrence of no small astonishment to those who had assembled at The Saracen's Head to pay their respects. The pedagogue - being entirely ignorant of the circumstances that had united his friends and acquaintances in grief - called for a brandy and water, and only became cognisant of the wall of staring faces behind him when he had sunk the contents of his glass and turned to lean his elbows on the bar and survey his surroundings. He remarked to the landlord that he had never in all his life seen so many patrons in a single establishment and, congratulating his host on the thriving nature of his business, exhibited no compunction in asking that gentleman to chalk his order (which he now repeated) upon the board in anticipation of future pecuniary expectations.
Of all the wide-eyed open-mouthed expressions confronting Mr Headstone, none was wider of eye nor more open of mouth than that of Mr Richard Swiveller, who now stepped forward and, on behalf of the United Bulldogs, welcomed the pedagogue with a firm handshake and called for the entire company to rejoice that what had been thought lost was now found, which sentiment was taken as a general signal to resume carousing.
Mr Charles Dickens
