,
a set of sketching materials, and a pair of boxing-gloves. The art
of self-defence Mr Feeder said he should undoubtedly make a point of
learning, as he considered it the duty of every man to do; for it might
lead to the protection of a female in distress. But Mr Feeder's great
possession was a large green jar of snuff, which Mr Toots had brought
down as a present, at the close of the last vacation; and for which he
had paid a high price, having been the genuine property of the Prince
Regent. Neither Mr Toots nor Mr Feeder could partake of this or any
other snuff, even in the most stinted and moderate degree, without being
seized with convulsions of sneezing. Nevertheless it was their great
delight to moisten a box-full with cold tea, stir it up on a piece of
parchment with a paper-knife, and devote themselves to its consumption
then and there. In the course of which cramming of their noses, they
endured surprising torments with the constancy of martyrs: and, drinking
table-beer at intervals, felt all the glories of dissipation.

To little Paul sitting silent in their company, and by the side of
his chief patron, Mr Toots, there was a dread charm in these reckless
occasions: and when Mr Feeder spoke of the dark mysteries of London, and
told Mr Toots that he was going to observe it himself closely in all its
ramifications in the approaching holidays, and for that purpose had
made arrangements to board with two old maiden ladies at Peckham, Paul
regarded him as if he were the hero of some book of travels or wild
adventure, and was almost afraid of such a slashing person.

Going into this room one evening, when the holidays were very near, Paul
found Mr Feeder filling up the blanks in some printed letters, while
some others, already filled up and strewn before him, were being folded
and sealed by Mr Toots. Mr Feeder said, 'Aha, Dombey, there you are, are
you?'--for they were always kind to him, and glad to see him--and then
said, tossing one of the letters towards him, 'And there you are, too,
Dombey. That's yours.'

'Mine, Sir?' said Paul.

'Your invitation,' returned Mr Feeder.

Paul, looking at it, found, in copper-plate print, with the exception
of his own name and the date, which were in Mr Feeder's penmanship, that
Doctor and Mrs Blimber requested the pleasure of Mr P. Dombey's company
at an early party on Wednesday Evening the Seventeenth Instant; and
that the hour was half-past seven o'clock; and that the obj