THE PICKWICK CLUB- 205
I" My father, Sir," replied Mr. Weller. " How are you, my ancient?" And with this beautiful ebullition of filial affection, Mr. Weller, made room on the seat beside him, for the stout man, who advanced pipe in mouth and pot in hand, to greet him.
" Vy, Sammy," said the father, " I han't seen you, for two years aftd better."
" Nor more you have, old codger," replied the son. " How*s mother in law ? "
- ' Vy, I'll tell you what, Sammy," said Mr. Weller, senior, withmuch,
solemnity in his manner; " there never was a nicer woman as a widder; than that 'ere second wentur o' mine — a sweet cretur she was, Sammy and all I can say on her now, is, that as she was such an uncommon pleasant widder, it's a great pity she ever changed her condition. She don't act as a vife, Sammy."
" Don't she, though ? " inquired Mr. W^eller junior.
The elder Mr. Weller shook his head, as he replied with a sigh, " IVe done it once too often, Sammy ; I've done it once too often. Take example by your father, my boy, and be wery careful o' widders all your life, specially if they've kept a public house, Sammy ;" and having delivered this parental advice with great pathos, Mr. Weller senior re-filled his pipe irom a tin box he carried in his pocket : and, lighting his fresh pipe from the ashes of the old one, commenced smoking at a great rate.
" Beg your pardon. Sir," he said, renewing the subject, and addressing Mr. Pickwick, after a considerable pause, " nothin' personal, I hope. Sir ; I hope you han't got a widder, Sir."
" Not 1," replied Mr. Pickwick, laughing ; and while Mr. Pickwick laughed, Sam Weller informed his parent in a whisper, of the relation in which he stood towards that gentleman.
" Beg your pardon, Sir," said Mr. Weller, senior, taking off his' hat, " I hope you've no fault to find with Sammy, Sir."
" None whatever," said Mr. Pickwick.
" Wery glad to hear it, Sir," replied the old man ; " I took a good deal o' pains with his eddication. Sir; let him run in the streets when he was wery young, and shift for his-self. It's the only way to make a boy sharp, Sir."
" Rather a dangerous process, I should imagine," said Mr. Pickwick^ with a smile.
" And not a wery sure one, neither," added Mr. Weller ; " I got reglarly done the other day."
" No ! " said the father.
I did," said the son ; and he proceeded to relate in as few words as possible, how he had fallen a ready dupe to the stratagems of Job Trotter.
Mr. Weller senior listened to the tale with the most profound attention, and, at its termination, said —
Worn't one o* these chaps slim and tall, with long hair, and the gift o' the gab wery gallopin' ?"
I Mr. Pickwick did not quite understand the last item of description, but, comprehending the first, said " Yes," at a venture.
