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Updated: June 4, 2025
Pickwick, perceiving that there was some embarrassment on the old gentleman's part, affected to be engaged in cutting the leaves of a book that lay beside him, and waited patiently until Mr. Weller should arrive at the object of his visit. 'I never see sich a aggrawatin' boy as you are, Samivel, said Mr. Weller, looking indignantly at his son; 'never in all my born days. 'What is he doing, Mr.
The comic valet, Paulo, who insists on being locked up in the dungeons of the Inquisition merely because his master is there, reminds one of Samuel Weller, he is a Neapolitan Samivel. The escapes are Mrs. Radcliffe's most exciting escapes, and to say that is to say a good deal. Poetry is not written, or not often, by the heroine. Why Mrs.
We keeps up a steady pace, not too sewere, but vith a moderate degree o' friction, and the consekens is that ve're still a runnin' and comes in to the time reg'lar. My son Samivel, sir, as you may have read on in history, added Mr. Weller, introducing his first-born. I received Sam very graciously, but before he could say a word his father struck in again.
'This here is the dockyment, Sammy, said Mr. Weller. 'I found it in the little black tea-pot, on the top shelf o' the bar closet. She used to keep bank-notes there, 'fore she vos married, Samivel. I've seen her take the lid off, to pay a bill, many and many a time.
His revered parent continued in a solemn tone 'I'm a-goin' to leave you, Samivel, my boy, and there's no telling ven I shall see you again. Your mother-in-law may ha' been too much for me, or a thousand things may have happened by the time you next hears any news o' the celebrated Mr. Veller o' the Bell Savage.
'I'll tell you wot it is, Samivel, my boy, whispered the old gentleman into his son's ear, after a long and steadfast contemplation of his lady and Mr. Stiggins; 'I think there must be somethin' wrong in your mother-in-law's inside, as vell as in that o' the red-nosed man. 'Wot do you mean? said Sam.
Having found his father, Sam explained to the elder Mr. Weller that Mr. Pickwick must not be left alone in the Fleet. "Vy, they'll eat him up alive, Sammy!" exclaimed the elder Mr. Weller. "Stop there by himself, poor creetur, without nobody to take his part! It can't be done, Samivel, it can't be done!" "O' course it can't," asserted Sam. "Well, then, I tell you wot it is.
Weller smoked for some minutes in silence, and then resumed 'The worst o' these here shepherds is, my boy, that they reg'larly turns the heads of all the young ladies, about here. Lord bless their little hearts, they thinks it's all right, and don't know no better; but they're the wictims o' gammon, Samivel, they're the wictims o' gammon. 'I s'pose they are, said Sam. 'Nothin' else, said Mr.
If I know'd how to make myself ugly or unpleasant, I'd do it, Samivel, rayther than live in this here state of perpetival terror! Mr.
'Catch the red-nosed man a-goin' anyvere but vere the liquors is; not he, Samivel, not he. Ve'd a wery pleasant ride along the road from the Markis this mornin', Sammy, said Mr. Weller, when he felt himself equal to the task of speaking in an articulate manner.
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