home, and makin' them as is about her cheerful and happy, and that

vile she goes to church, or chapel, or wot not, at all proper times, she

should be wery careful not to con-wert this sort o' thing into a excuse

for idleness or self-indulgence. I have done this,’ she says, ‘and I've

vasted time and substance on them as has done it more than me; but

I hope ven I'm gone, Veller, that you'll think on me as I wos afore I

know'd them people, and as I raly wos by natur.’

'‘Susan,’ says I - I wos took up wery short by this, Samivel; I von't

deny it, my boy - ’Susan,’ I says, ‘you've been a wery good vife to me,

altogether; don't say nothin' at all about it; keep a good heart, my

dear; and you'll live to see me punch that 'ere Stiggins's head yet.’ She

smiled at this, Samivel,' said the old gentleman, stifling a sigh with his

pipe, 'but she died arter all!'

Vell,' said Sam, venturing to offer a little homely consolation, after the

lapse of three or four minutes, consumed by the old gentleman in

slowly shaking his head from side to side, and solemnly smoking, 'vell,

gov'nor, ve must all come to it, one day or another.'

So we must, Sammy,' said Mr Weller the elder.

There's a Providence in it all,' said Sam.

O' course there is,' replied his father, with a nod of grave approval.

Wot 'ud become of the undertakers vithout it, Sammy?'

Lost in the immense field of conjecture opened by this reflection, the

elder Mr Weller laid his pipe on the table, and stirred the fire with a

meditative visage.

While the old gentleman was thus engaged, a very buxom- looking

cook, dressed in mourning, who had been bustling about, in the bar,

glided into the room, and bestowing many smirks of recognition upon

Sam, silently stationed herself at the back of his father's chair, and

announced her presence by a slight cough, the which, being

disregarded, was followed by a louder one.

Hollo!' said the elder Mr Weller, dropping the poker as he looked

round, and hastily drew his chair away. 'Wot's the matter now?'

Have a cup of tea, there's a good soul,' replied the buxom female

coaxingly. 'I von't,' replied Mr Weller, in a somewhat boisterous

manner. 'I'll see you - ' Mr Weller hastily checked himself, and added

in a low tone, 'furder fust.'

'Oh, dear, dear! How adwersity does change people!' said the lady,

looking upwards.

The Pickwick Papers