'‘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, removing 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 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.

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.

'Drive on, Sammy,' said Mr Weller.

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.

‘Afore I see you, I thought all women was alike.’'

So they are,' observed the elder Mr Weller parenthetically.

‘But now,’' continued Sam, '‘now I find what a reg'lar soft- headed,

inkred'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.

‘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 colours 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.’'

The Pickwick Papers