Page:The Posthumous Papers of the Pickwick Club.djvu/423

343 THE PICWK.ICK CLUB. 343

recline against the mantel-piece at the same time, turned towards Sara, and, with a countenance greatly mollified by the softening induence of tobacco, requested hira to " fire away."

Sam dipped his pen into the ink to be ready for any corrections, and began with a very theatrical air —

"'Lovely "'

inwariable, my dear."
 * ' Stop," said Mr. Weller, ringing the bell. " A double glass o' the

" Very well. Sir," replied the girl ; who with great quickness appeared, vanished, returned, and disappeared.

'' They seem to know your ways here," observed Sam.

'^ Yes," replied his father, " I've been here before, in my time. Go on, Sammy." __ " ' Lovely creetur,' " repeated Sam. H^ ** 'Tain't in poetry, is it ?" interposed the father, ^k *' No no," replied Sam.

^H <f Werry glad to hear it," said Mr. Weller. " Poetry's unnat'ral; no man ^^irer talked in poetry 'cept a beadle on boxin' day, or Warren's blackin' ! or Rowland's oil, or some o' them low felloY§ ; never you let yourself down to talk poetry, my boy. Begin again, Sammy."

Mr. Weller resumed his pipe with critical solemnity, and Sam once more commenced, and read as follows.

" 'Lovely creetur i feel myself a dammed ' — ."

mouth.
 * ' That ain't proper," said Mr. Weller, taking his pipe from his

" No ; it aint dammed," observed Sam, holding the letter up to the light, " it's ' shamed,* there's a blot there — ' I feel myself ashamed.

" Wery good," said Mr. Weller. " Go on."

" * Feel myself ashamed, and completely cir — ' I forget wot this here word is," said Sam, scratching his head with the pen, in vain attempts to remember.

" Why don't you look at it, then ?" inquired Mr. Weller.

" So I am a lookin' at it," replied Sam, " but there's another blot : here's a 'c,* and a 'i,** and a 'd.'"

" Circumwented, p'raps," suggested Mr. Weller.

" No it ain't that," said Sam, *' circumscribed, that's it."

Weller gravely.
 * ' That ain't as »good a word as circumwented, Sammy," said Mr.

''Think not?" said Sam.

" Nothin' like it," replied his father.

" But don't you think it means more ? " inquired Sam.

" Veil p'raps it is a more tenderer word," said Mr. Weller, after a few moments' reflection. " Go on, Sammy."

" ' Feel myself ashamed and completely circumscribed in a dressin' of you, for you are a nice gal and nothin' but it.' "

" That's a wery pretty sentiment," said the elder Mr. Weller, remov- ing his pipe to make way for the remark.

" Yes, I think it is rayther good," observed Sam, highly flattered.

'* Wot I like in that 'ere style of writin'," said the elder M''