'His new friend departed. Mr Tupman experienced some slight difficulty in finding the hole in his nightcap, and finally overturned his candlestick in his struggles to put it on his head. He eventually got into bed by a series of complicated twists and turns, and soon afterwards sank into repose.

Seven o'clock had hardly ceased striking on the following morning, when Mr Pickwick's great mind was aroused from its deep slumber by a loud knocking at his chamber door. 'Who's there?' said Mr Pickwick, starting up in bed.

'Boots, sir.'

'What do you want?'

'Please, sir, can you tell me which gentleman in your group wears a bright blue coat, with a gold button with "P. C." on it?'

'Someone has taken it to clean,' thought Mr Pickwick, 'and now he has forgotten whom it belongs to.' 'It belongs to Mr Winkle,' he called out, 'next room but two, on the right.'