Page:The Posthumous Papers of the Pickwick Club.djvu/420

342 342 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OH

" Veil, Sammy,'* said the father.

"Veil, my Prooshan Blue," responded the son, laying down his pen. *' What's the last bulletin about mother-in-law ?"

" Mrs. Veller passed a wery good night, but is uncommon perwerse, and unpleasant this mornin' — signed upon oath — S. Veller, Esquire, Senior. That's the last vun as was issued, Sammy," replied Mr. Weller, untying his shawl.

" No better yet ? " inquired Sam.

« All the symptoms aggerawated," replied Mr. Weller, shaking his head. " But wot's that, you're a doin* of — pursuit of knowledge under difficulties — eh Sammy?"

" I've done now," said Sam with slight embarrassment ; " I've been a writinV*

hope, Sammy.**
 * ' So I see," replied Mr. Weller. " Not to any young 'ooman, I


 * Why it's no use a sayin' it ain't," replied Sam, " It's a walentine."

" A what I " exclaimed Mr. Weller, apparently horror-stricken by the word.

" A walentine," replied Sam.

think you'd ha* done it. Arter the warnin' you're had o' your father's wicious perpensities, arter all I've said to you upon this here wery sub- ject; arter actiwally seein' and bein' in the company o* your own mother- in-law, vich I should ha' thought wos a moral lesson as no man could ever ha* forgotten to his dyin' day I I didn't think you'd ha' done it, Sammy, I didn't think you'd ha' done it." These reflections were too much for the good old man. He raised Sam's tumbler to his lips and drank off its contents.
 * Samivel, Samivel," said Mr. Weller, in reproachful accents, " I didn't

" Wot's the matter now ! " said Sam.

" Nev'r mind, Sammy," replied Mr. Weller, " it'll be a wery agonizin* trial to me at my time of life, but I'm pretty tough, that's vun conso- lation, as the wery old turkey remarked ven the farmer said he wos afeerd he should be obliged to kill him, for the London market."


 * ' Wot'U be a trial?" inquired Sam.

'* To see you married, Sammy — to see you a dilluded wictim, and thinkin* in your innocence that it's all wery capital," replied Mr. Wel- ler. " It's a dreadful trial to a father's feelin's, that 'ere, Sammy."

fret yourself about that ; I know you're a judge o' these things. Order in your pipe, and I'll read you the letter — there."
 * Nonsense," said Sam. '' I ain't a goin* to get married, don't you

We cannot distinctly say whether it was the prospect of the pipe, or the consolatory reflection that a fatal disposition to get married ran in the family and couldn't be helped, which calmed Mr. Weller's feelings, and caused his grief to subside. We should be rather disposed to say that the result was attained by combining the two sources of consola- tion, for he repeated the second in a low tone, very frequently ; ringing the bell meanwhile, to order in the first. He then divested himself of his upper coat ; and lighting the pipe and placing himself in front of the fire with his back towards it, so that he could feel its full heat, and