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Presently, he gin over, and fell back on his piller murmurin' "Sare, you are too good." I gin the balance to the leetle gal, and told her to come round in the mornin', and I'd fill her kittle for her, adding that her grandfather would be all straight in the mornin'. Samivel! he vas all straight in the morning, but just as stiff as a cold poker.
In a word, was such tumult of acclamation even the President himself swinging his reverend hat, and the illustrious alumni, far and near, when the glad tidings were told, beaming with joyful complacency, like Mr. Pickwick going down the slide, while Samivel Weller adjured him and the company to keep the pot a-bilin' ever produced by any scholastic performance or success or triumph whatever?
That was a lie, Samivel but never mind, I gin him a dozen, and the old fellur seemed to like 'em fust rate. Then I offered him some more, but he hung back. However I made him swallow 'em, and offered some to the leetle gal. "After grandpapa," said she. So I offered him some more. "No more, I zank you; I 'ave eat too moosh." I know'd he was only sogerin' out of delixy.
He was of medium height, not especially stout, but still strong and well knit; he moved too briskly for a tramp, and his eyes were too sly and furtive to belong to an honest man. "Well, Samivel!" he began, with a jolly facetiousness, "what's your noble game this evenin'? You look like you was down on your luck. Is the fair one unkind?" Sam turned upon him with an angry gesture.
Pickwick; 'a desire that she may be comfortable and prosperous. You understand? 'Wery clearly, replied Mr. Weller, who understood nothing yet. 'That young person, said Mr. Pickwick, 'is attached to your son. 'To Samivel Veller! exclaimed the parent. 'Yes, said Mr. Pickwick. 'It's nat'ral, said Mr. Weller, after some consideration, 'nat'ral, but rayther alarmin'. Sammy must be careful.
'Can't be done! ejaculated Mr. Pickwick in astonishment. 'Samivel! said Mr. Weller, with dignity. 'I say it can't be done, repeated Sam in a louder key. 'Wot's to become of you, Sir? 'My good fellow, replied Mr. Pickwick, 'the recent changes among my friends will alter my mode of life in future, entirely; besides, I am growing older, and want repose and quiet. My rambles, Sam, are over.
'Wery hearty, thank'ee, sir, replied the widower; 'hope I see you well, sir. 'Quite, I thank you, replied Mr. Pickwick. 'I wanted to have a little bit o' conwersation with you, sir, said Mr. Weller, 'if you could spare me five minits or so, sir. 'Certainly, replied Mr. Pickwick. 'Sam, give your father a chair. 'Thank'ee, Samivel, I've got a cheer here, said Mr.
'Sam Weller, my Lord, replied that gentleman. 'Do you spell it with a "V" or a "W"? inquired the judge. 'That depends upon the taste and fancy of the speller, my Lord, replied Sam; 'I never had occasion to spell it more than once or twice in my life, but I spells it with a "V." Here a voice in the gallery exclaimed aloud, 'Quite right too, Samivel, quite right.
'If my son Samivel, mum, vould only dis- pense vith these here, you'd see such a alteration in his appearance, as the imagination can't depicter. 'But what would you have the child wear instead, Mr. Weller? said the housekeeper.
Weller? inquired Mr. Pickwick. 'He von't begin, sir, rejoined Mr. Weller; 'he knows I ain't ekal to ex-pressin' myself ven there's anythin' partickler to be done, and yet he'll stand and see me a-settin' here taking up your walable time, and makin' a reg'lar spectacle o' myself, rayther than help me out vith a syllable. It ain't filial conduct, Samivel, said Mr.
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