Whether Young Smallweed (metaphorically called Small and eke Chick Weed, as it were jocularly to express a fledgling) was ever a boy is much doubted in Lincoln's Inn. He is now something under fifteen and an old limb of the law. He is facetiously understood to entertain a passion for a lady at a cigar-shop in the neighbourhood of Chancery Lane and for her sake to have broken off a contract with another lady, to whom he had been engaged some years. He is a town-made article, of small stature and weazen features, but may be perceived from a considerable distance by means of his very tall hat. To become a Guppy is the object of his ambition. He dresses at that gentleman (by whom he is patronized), talks at him, walks at him, founds himself entirely on him. He is honoured with Mr. Guppy's particular confidence and occasionally advises him, from the deep wells of his experience, on difficult points in private life.
Mr. Guppy has been lolling out of window all the morning after trying all the stools in succession and finding none of them easy, and after several times putting his head into the iron safe with a notion of cooling it. Mr. Smallweed has been twice dispatched for effervescent drinks, and has twice mixed them in the two official tumblers and stirred them up with the ruler. Mr. Guppy propounds for Mr. Smallweed's consideration the paradox that the more you drink the thirstier you are and reclines his head upon the window-sill in a state of hopeless languor.

Whether Young Smallweed (called Small and also Chickweed) was ever a boy is much doubted in Lincoln's Inn. He is something under fifteen and an old limb of the law. He is facetiously understood to entertain a passion for a lady at a cigar-shop and for her sake to have broken off a contract with another lady to whom he had been engaged. He is small with wizened features, but may be perceived from a considerable distance by means of his very tall hat. To become a Guppy is his ambition. He dresses like that gentleman, walks and talks like him, founds himself entirely on him. He is honoured with Mr. Guppy's confidence and occasionally advises him, from his deep experience, on difficult points in private life.
Mr. Guppy has been lolling out of the window all morning, after several times putting his head into the iron safe with a notion of cooling it. Mr. Smallweed has been twice sent out for effervescent drinks, and has twice mixed them in the tumblers and stirred them up with the ruler. Mr. Guppy reclines his head upon the window-sill in a state of hopeless languor.
