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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.' 666Feel myself ashamed, and completely cir”-I forget what 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." ;
66. Circumwented, p’haps,' suggested Mr. Weller.
6. No: it ain't that,” said Sam : «« circumscribed ;" that's it.'
"• That ain't as good a word as circumwented, Sammy,' said Mr. Weller gravely.
“Think not?' said Sam.
6 Vell, p'raps it is a more tenderer word,' said Mr. Weller, after a moment's reflection. 'Go on, Sammy.'
56666 Feel myself ashamed and completely circumscribed in a dressin' of you; for you are a nice gal, and nothin' but it."
566 That's a wery pretty sentiment,' said the elder Mr. Weller, removing his pipe to make way for the remark.
"Yes, I think it is rayther good,' observed Sam, highly flattered.
666 Wót I like in that 'ere style of writin," ' said the
elder Mr. Weller, is, that there ain't no callin' names in it, - no Wenuses, nor nothin' o' that kind. Wot's the good o' callin' a young 'ooman a Wenus or a angel, Sammy?'
“Ah! what, indeed ? ' replied Sam.
6. You might jist as well call her a griffin, or a unicorn, or a king's-arms at once, which is wery well known to be a collection o' fabulous animals,' added Mr. Weller.
“ • Just as well,' replied Sam.
“ Sam complied with the request, and proceeded as follows; his father continuing to smoke, with a mixed expression of wisdom and complacency which was particularly edifying.
66666 Afore I see you, I thought all women was
66666 But now,
“So they are,' observed the elder Mr. Weller parenthetically.
"' continued Sam, ""now I find what a reg'lar soft-headed, ink-red’lous turnip I must ha' been ; for there ain't nobody like you, though I like you better than nothin' at all.” I thought it best to make that rayther strong,' said Sam, looking up.
“ Mr. Weller nodded approvingly, and Sam resumed.
56"So I take the privilidge of the day, Mary, my dear, -as the gen'l'm'n in difficulties did, ven he valked out of a Sunday,--to tell you, that, the first and only time I see
you, your likeness was took on my hart in much quicker time and brighter colors than ever a likeness was took by the profeel macheen (wich p'raps you may have heerd on, Mary, my dear), altho’ it does finish a portrait and put the frame and glass on complete, with a hook at the end to hang it up by, and all in two minutes and a quarter.'
“I am afeered that werges on the poetical, Sammy,' said Mr. Weller dubiously.
- No, it don't,' replied Sam, reading on very quickly, to avoid contesting the point,
"6" Except of me, Mary, my dear, as your walentine, and think over what I've said. My dear Mary, I will now conclude.” That's all,' said .Sam.
66. That's rather a sudden pull-up, ain't it, Sammy?' inquired Mr. Weller.
"Not a bit on it,' said Sam. She'll vish there wos more, and that's the great art o' letter-writin.'
666 Well,' said Mr. Weller, there's somethin' in that; and I wish your mother-in-law 'ud only conduct her conwersation on the same gen-teel principle. Ain't you agoin' to sign it ?
6. That's the difficulty,' said Sam. “I don't know what to sign it.'
"Sign it Veller,' said the oldest surviving proprietor of that name.
4. Won't do,' said Sam. Never sign a walentine with your own name.'
“Sign it “ Pickvick," then,' said Mr. Weller. It's a wery good name, and a easy one to spell.'
“The wery thing,' said Sam. I could end with a werse : what do you think?'
66. I don't like it, Sam,' rejoined Mr. Weller. “I never know'd a respectable coachman as wrote poetry, 'cept one, as made an affectin' copy o' werses the night afore he wos hung for highway robbery; and he was only a Cambervell man : so even that's no rule.'
“ But Sam was not to be dissuaded from the poetical idea that had occurred to him ; so he signed the let
5. Your love-sick
And, having folded it in a very intricate manner, squeezed a down-hill direction in one corner : • To Mary, Housemaid, at Mr. Nupkins's Mayor's, Ipswich, Suffolk;' and put it into his pocket, wafered, and ready for the General Post."
Among the old English customs which modern eyes look upon with contempt and displeasure, that of imprisonment for debt is one of the worst. In “ Pickwick,” the death in prison of one confined for years for debt is thus touchingly described :
" " I'm sorry to say that your landlord's wery bad tonight, sir,' said · Roker, setting down the glass, and in
specting the lining of his hat preparatory to putting it on again.
6. What! The Chancery prisoner l'exclaimed Mr. Pickwick.
“ He won't be a Chancery prisoner wery long, sir, replied Roker, turning his hat round, so as to get the maker's name right-side upwards, as he looked into it.
“You make my blood run cold,' said Mr. Pickwick. • What do you mean?'
“He's been consumptive for a long time past,' said Mr. Roker, and he's taken wery bad in the breath tonight. The doctor said, six months ago, that nothing but change of air could save him.'
666 Great Heaven !' exclaimed Mr. Pickwick: has this man been slowly murdered by the law for six months ?'
66. I don't know about that,' replied Roker, weighing the hat by the brims in both hands. “I suppose he'd have been took the same, wherever he was. He went into the infirmary this morning : the doctor says his strength is to be kept up as much as possible ; and the warden's sent him wine and broth and that, from his own house. It's not the warden's fault, you know, sir.'
“Of course not,' replied Mr. Pickwick hastily.
6. I'm afraid, however,' said Roker, shaking his head, óthat it's all up with him. I offered Neddy two sixpenn'orths to one upon it just now; but he wouldn't take it, and quite right. Thankee, sir. Good-night,