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'
'
'
It mustn't be,' said Sam.
Cert'nly not,' said Mr Weller.
Vell now,' said Sam, 'you've been a-prophecyin' away, wery fine, like a
red-faced Nixon, as the sixpenny books gives picters on.'
'Who wos he, Sammy?' inquired Mr Weller.
'Never mind who he was,' retorted Sam; 'he warn't a coachman; that's
enough for you.' 'I know'd a ostler o' that name,' said Mr Weller,
musing.
'It warn't him,' said Sam. 'This here gen'l'm'n was a prophet.'
'Wot's a prophet?' inquired Mr Weller, looking sternly on his son.
'Wy, a man as tells what's a-goin' to happen,' replied Sam.
'I wish I'd know'd him, Sammy,' said Mr Weller. 'P'raps he might ha'
throw'd a small light on that 'ere liver complaint as we wos a-speakin'
on, just now. Hows'ever, if he's dead, and ain't left the bisness to
nobody, there's an end on it. Go on, Sammy,' said Mr Weller, with a
sigh.
'
Well,' said Sam, 'you've been a-prophecyin' avay about wot'll happen
to the gov'ner if he's left alone. Don't you see any way o' takin' care on
him?'
'
'
'
No, I don't, Sammy,' said Mr Weller, with a reflective visage.
No vay at all?' inquired Sam.
No vay,' said Mr Weller, 'unless' - and a gleam of intelligence lighted
up his countenance as he sank his voice to a whisper, and applied his
mouth to the ear of his offspring - 'unless it is getting him out in a
turn-up bedstead, unbeknown to the turnkeys, Sammy, or dressin'
him up like a old 'ooman vith a green wail.'
Sam Weller received both of these suggestions with unexpected
contempt, and again propounded his question.
'No,' said the old gentleman; 'if he von't let you stop there, I see no vay
at all. It's no thoroughfare, Sammy, no thoroughfare.'
'
Well, then, I'll tell you wot it is,' said Sam, 'I'll trouble you for the loan
of five-and-twenty pound.'
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