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Dickens, Charles

"The Pickwick Papers"


'I was, sir,' replied Job, heaving a deep sigh; 'I was the idol of
the place.'
'Ah,' said Sam, 'I don't wonder at it. What a comfort you
must ha' been to your blessed mother.'
At these words, Mr. Job Trotter inserted an end of the pink
handkerchief into the corner of each eye, one after the other, and
began to weep copiously.
'Wot's the matter with the man,' said Sam, indignantly.
'Chelsea water-works is nothin' to you. What are you melting
vith now? The consciousness o' willainy?'
'I cannot keep my feelings down, Mr. Weller,' said Job, after a
short pause. 'To think that my master should have suspected the
conversation I had with yours, and so dragged me away in a
post-chaise, and after persuading the sweet young lady to say she
knew nothing of him, and bribing the school-mistress to do the
same, deserted her for a better speculation! Oh! Mr. Weller, it
makes me shudder.'
'Oh, that was the vay, was it?' said Mr. Weller.
'To be sure it was,' replied Job.
'Vell,' said Sam, as they had now arrived near the hotel, 'I vant
to have a little bit o' talk with you, Job; so if you're not partickler
engaged, I should like to see you at the Great White Horse to-
night, somewheres about eight o'clock.


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