'
'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.
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