'Oh, the hardness of heart of these inveterate men!' ejaculated Mr

Stiggins. 'Oh, the accursed cruelty of these inhuman persecutors!'

With these words, Mr Stiggins again cast up his eyes, and rapped his

breast with his umbrella; and it is but justice to the reverend

gentleman to say, that his indignation appeared very real and

unfeigned indeed.

After Mrs. Weller and the red-nosed gentleman had commented on

this inhuman usage in a very forcible manner, and had vented a

variety of pious and holy execrations against its authors, the latter

recommended a bottle of port wine, warmed with a little water, spice,

and sugar, as being grateful to the stomach, and savouring less of

vanity than many other compounds. It was accordingly ordered to be

prepared, and pending its preparation the red-nosed man and Mrs.

Weller looked at the elder W. and groaned.

'Well, Sammy,' said the gentleman, 'I hope you'll find your spirits rose

by this here lively wisit. Wery cheerful and improvin' conwersation,

ain't it, Sammy?'

You're a reprobate,' replied Sam; 'and I desire you won't address no

more o' them ungraceful remarks to me.'

So far from being edified by this very proper reply, the elder Mr Weller

at once relapsed into a broad grin; and this inexorable conduct

causing the lady and Mr Stiggins to close their eyes, and rock

themselves to and fro on their chairs, in a troubled manner, he

furthermore indulged in several acts of pantomime, indicative of a

desire to pummel and wring the nose of the aforesaid Stiggins, the

performance of which, appeared to afford him great mental relief. The

old gentleman very narrowly escaped detection in one instance; for Mr

Stiggins happening to give a start on the arrival of the negus, brought

his head in smart contact with the clenched fist with which Mr Weller

had been describing imaginary fireworks in the air, within two inches

of his ear, for some minutes.

'Wot are you a-reachin' out, your hand for the tumbler in that 'ere

sawage way for?' said Sam, with great promptitude. 'Don't you see

you've hit the gen'l'm'n?'

I didn't go to do it, Sammy,' said Mr Weller, in some degree abashed

by the very unexpected occurrence of the incident.

'Try an in'ard application, sir,' said Sam, as the red-nosed gentleman

rubbed his head with a rueful visage. 'Wot do you think o' that, for a

go o' wanity, warm, Sir?'

The Pickwick Papers