'
'A what!' exclaimed Mr. Weller, apparently horror-stricken
by the word.
'A walentine,' replied Sam.
'Samivel, Samivel,' said Mr. Weller, in reproachful accents, 'I
didn't think you'd ha' done it. Arter the warnin' you've had o'
your father's wicious propensities; arter all I've said to you upon
this here wery subject; arter actiwally seein' and bein' in the
company o' your own mother-in-law, vich I should ha' thought
wos a moral lesson as no man could never ha' forgotten to his
dyin' day! I didn't think you'd ha' done it, Sammy, I didn't
think you'd ha' done it!' These reflections were too much for the
good old man. He raised Sam's tumbler to his lips and drank off
its contents.
'Wot's the matter now?' said Sam.
'Nev'r mind, Sammy,' replied Mr. Weller, 'it'll be a wery
agonisin' trial to me at my time of life, but I'm pretty tough, that's
vun consolation, as the wery old turkey remarked wen the
farmer said he wos afeerd he should be obliged to kill him for the
London market.'
'Wot'll be a trial?' inquired Sam.
'To see you married, Sammy--to see you a dilluded wictim,
and thinkin' in your innocence that it's all wery capital,' replied
Mr.
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