'
But Sam was not to be dissuaded from the poetical idea that
had occurred to him, so he signed the letter--
'Your love-sick
Pickwick.'
And having folded it, in a very intricate manner, squeezed a
downhill direction in one corner: 'To Mary, Housemaid, at
Mr. Nupkins's, Mayor's, Ipswich, Suffolk'; and put it into his
pocket, wafered, and ready for the general post. This important
business having been transacted, Mr. Weller the elder proceeded
to open that, on which he had summoned his son.
'The first matter relates to your governor, Sammy,' said Mr.
Weller. 'He's a-goin' to be tried to-morrow, ain't he?'
'The trial's a-comin' on,' replied Sam.
'Vell,' said Mr. Weller, 'Now I s'pose he'll want to call some
witnesses to speak to his character, or p'rhaps to prove a alleybi.
I've been a-turnin' the bis'ness over in my mind, and he may
make his-self easy, Sammy. I've got some friends as'll do either
for him, but my adwice 'ud be this here--never mind the
character, and stick to the alleybi. Nothing like a alleybi, Sammy,
nothing.' Mr. Weller looked very profound as he delivered this
legal opinion; and burying his nose in his tumbler, winked over
the top thereof, at his astonished son.
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