第127章

IN WHICH MR.SAMUEL WELLER BEGINS TO DEVOTE HIS ENERGIESTO THE RETURN MATCH BETWEEN HIMSELF AND MR.TROTTERI N a small room in the vicinity of the stable-yard, betimes in the morning, which was ushered in by Mr.Pickwick's adventure with the middle-aged lady in the yellow curlpapers, sat Mr.Weller senior, preparing himself for his journey to London.He was sitting in an excellent attitude for having his portrait taken.

It is very possible that at some earlier period of his career, Mr.Weller's profile might have presented a bold and determined outline.His face, however, had expanded under the influence of good living, and a disposition remarkable for resignation; and its bold fleshly curves had so far extended beyond the limits originally assigned them, that unless you took a full view of his countenance in front, it was difficult to distinguish more than the extreme tip of a very rubicund nose.His chin, from the same cause, had acquired the grave and imposing form which is generally described by prefixing the word "double" to that expressive feature; and his complexion exhibited that peculiarly mottled combination of colours which is only to be seen in gentlemen of his profession, and in underdone roast beef.Round his neck he wore a crimson travelling shawl, which merged into his chin by such imperceptible gradations, that it was difficult to distinguish the folds of the one, from the folds of the other.Over this, he mounted a long waistcoat of a broad pink-striped pattern, and over that again, a wide-skirted green coat, ornamented with large brass buttons, whereof the two which garnished the waist, were so far apart, that no man had ever beheld them both, at the same time.His hair, which was short, sleek, and black, was just visible beneath the capacious brim of a low-crowned brown hat.His legs were encased in knee-cord breeches, and painted top-boots:

and a copper watch-chain, terminating in one seal, and a key of the same material, dangled loosely from his capacious waistband.

We have said that Mr.Weller was engaged in preparing for his journey to London--he was taking sustenance, in fact.On the table before him, stood a pot of ale, a cold round of beef, and a very respectable-looking loaf, to each of which he distributed his favours in turn, with the most rigid impartiality.He had just cut a mighty slice from the latter, when the footsteps of somebody entering the room, caused him to raise his head;and he beheld his son.

"Mornin', Sammy!" said the father.

The son walked up to the pot of ale, and nodding significantly to his parent, took a long draught by way of reply.

"Wery good power o' suction, Sammy," said Mr.Weller the elder, looking into the pot, when his first-born had set it down half empty."You'd ha'

made an uncommon fine oyster, Sammy, if you'd been born in that station o' life." "Yes, I des-say I should ha' managed to pick up a respectable livin'," replied Sam, applying himself to the cold beef, with considerable vigour.

"I'm wery sorry, Sammy," said the elder Mr.Weller, shaking up the ale, by describing small circles with the pot, preparatory to drinking."I'm wery sorry, Sammy, to hear from your lips, as you let yourself be gammoned by that 'ere mulberry man.I always thought, up to three days ago, that the names of Veller and gammon could never come into contract, Sammy, never.""Always exceptin' the case of a widder, of course," said Sam.

"Widders, Sammy," replied Mr.Weller, slightly changing colour."Widders are 'ceptions to ev'ry rule.I have heerd how many ord'nary women, one widder's equal to, in pint o' comin' over you.I think it's five-and-twenty, but I don't rightly know vether it an't more.""Well; that's pretty well," said Sam.

"Besides," continued Mr.Weller, not noticing the interruption, "that's a wery different thing.You know what the counsel said, Sammy, as defended the gen'l'm'n as beat his wife with the poker, venever he got jolly.`And arter all, my Lord,' says he, `it's a amable weakness.' So I says respectin'

widders, Sammy, and so you'll say, ven you gets as old as me.""I ought to ha' know'd better, I know," said Sam.

"Ought to ha' know'd better!" repeated Mr.Weller, striking the table with his fist."Ought to ha' know'd better! why, I know a young 'un as hasn't had half nor quarter your eddication--as hasn't slept about the markets, no, not six months--who'd ha' scorned to be let in, in such a vay; scorned it, Sammy." In the excitement of feeling produced by this agonising reflection, Mr.Weller rang the bell, and ordered an additional pint of ale.

"Well, it's no use talking about it now," said Sam."It's over, and can't be helped, and that's one consolation, as they always says in Turkey, ven they cuts the wrong man's head off.It's my innings now, gov'rnor, and as soon as I catches hold o' this ere Trotter, I'll have a good 'un.""I hope you will, Sammy.I hope you will," returned Mr.Weller."Here's your health, Sammy, and may you speedily vipe off the disgrace as you've inflicted on the family name." In honour of this toast, Mr.Weller imbibed at a draught, at least two-thirds of the newly-arrived pint, and handed it over to his son, to dispose of the remainder, which he instantaneously did.

"And now, Sammy," said Mr.Weller, consulting the large double-faced silver watch that hung at the end of the copper chain."Now it's time Iwas up at the office to get my vay-bill, and see the coach loaded; for coaches, Sammy, is like guns--they require to be loaded with wery great care, afore they go off."At this parental and professional joke, Mr.Weller junior smiled a filial smile.His reversed parent continued in a solemn tone: