white neckerchief was not, and its long limp ends straggled over his
closely-buttoned waistcoat in a very uncouth and unpicturesque fashion.
A pair of old, worn, beaver gloves, a broad-brimmed hat, and a faded
green umbrella, with plenty of whalebone sticking through the bottom,
as if to counterbalance the want of a handle at the top, lay on a chair
beside him; and, being disposed in a very tidy and careful manner,
seemed to imply that the red-nosed man, whoever he was, had no intention
of going away in a hurry.
To do the red-nosed man justice, he would have been very far from
wise if he had entertained any such intention; for, to judge from all
appearances, he must have been possessed of a most desirable circle
of acquaintance, if he could have reasonably expected to be more
comfortable anywhere else. The fire was blazing brightly under the
influence of the bellows, and the kettle was singing gaily under the
influence of both. A small tray of tea-things was arranged on the table;
a plate of hot buttered toast was gently simmering before the fire; and
the red-nosed man himself was busily engaged in converting a large slice
of bread into the same agreeable edible, through the instrumentality
of a long brass toasting-fork. Beside him stood a glass of reeking hot
pine-apple rum-and-water, with a slice of lemon in it; and every time
the red-nosed man stopped to bring the round of toast to his eye, with
the view of ascertaining how it got on, he imbibed a drop or two of the
hot pine-apple rum-and-water, and smiled upon the rather stout lady, as
she blew the fire.
Sam was so lost in the contemplation of this comfortable scene, that he
suffered the first inquiry of the rather stout lady to pass unheeded. It
was not until it had been twice repeated, each time in a shriller tone,
that he became conscious of the impropriety of his behaviour.
'Governor in?' inquired Sam, in reply to the question.
'No, he isn't,' replied Mrs. Weller; for the rather stout lady was no
other than the quondam relict and sole executrix of the dead-and-gone
Mr. Clarke; 'no, he isn't, and I don't expect him, either.'
'I suppose he's drivin' up to-day?' said Sam.
'He may be, or he may not,' replied Mrs. Weller, buttering the round
of toast which the red-nosed man had just finished. 'I don't know, and,
what's more, I don't care.--Ask a blessin', Mr. Stiggins.'
The red-nosed man did as he was desired, and instantly commenced on the
toast with fierce voracity.
The appearance of the red-nosed man had induced Sam, at first sight,
to more than half suspect that he was the deputy-shepherd of whom his
estimable parent had spoken. The moment he saw him eat, all doubt on
the subject was removed, and he perceived at once that if he purposed
to take up his temporary quarters where he was, he must make his footing
good without delay. He therefore commenced proceedings by putting his
arm over the half-door of the bar, coolly unbolting it, and leisurely
walking in.
'Mother-in-law,' said Sam, 'how are you?'
'Why, I do believe he is a Weller!' said Mrs. W., raising her eyes to
Sam's face, with no very gratified expression of countenance.
'I rayther think he is,' said the imperturbable Sam; 'and I hope this
here reverend gen'l'm'n 'll excuse me saying that I wish I was THE
Weller as owns you, mother-in-law.'
This was a double-barrelled compliment. It implied that Mrs. Weller
was a most agreeable female, and also that Mr. Stiggins had a clerical
appearance. It made a visible impression at once; and Sam followed up
his advantage by kissing his mother-in-law.
'Get along with you!' said Mrs. Weller, pushing him away. 'For shame,
young man!' said the gentleman with the red nose.
'No offence, sir, no offence,' replied Sam; 'you're wery right, though;
it ain't the right sort o' thing, ven mothers-in-law is young and
good-looking, is it, Sir?'
'It's all vanity,' said Mr. Stiggins.
'Ah, so it is,' said Mrs. Weller, setting her cap to rights.
Sam thought it was, too, but he held his peace.
The deputy-shepherd seemed by no means best pleased with Sam's arrival;
and when the first effervescence of the compliment had subsided, even
Mrs. Weller looked as if she could have spared him without the smallest
inconvenience. However, there he was; and as he couldn't be decently
turned out, they all three sat down to tea.
'And how's father?' said Sam.
At this inquiry, Mrs. Weller raised her hands, and turned up her eyes,
as if the subject were too painful to be alluded to.
Mr. Stiggins groaned.
'What's the matter with that 'ere gen'l'm'n?' inquired Sam.
'He's shocked at the way your father goes on in,' replied Mrs. Weller.
'Oh, he is, is he?' said Sam.
'And with too good reason,' added Mrs. Weller gravely.
Mr. Stiggins took up a fresh piece of toast, and groaned heavily.
'He is a dreadful reprobate,' said Mrs. Weller.
'A man of wrath!' exclaimed Mr. Stiggins. He took a large semi-circular
bite out of the toast, and groaned again.
Sam felt very strongly disposed to give the reverend Mr. Stiggins
something to groan for, but he repressed his inclination, and merely
asked, 'What's the old 'un up to now?'
'Up to, indeed!' said Mrs. Weller, 'Oh, he has a hard heart. Night after
night does this excellent man--don't frown, Mr. Stiggins; I WILL say you
ARE an excellent man--come and sit here, for hours together, and it has
not the least effect upon him.' 'Well, that is odd,' said Sam; 'it 'ud
have a wery considerable effect upon me, if I wos in his place; I know
that.'
'The fact is, my young friend,' said Mr. Stiggins solemnly, 'he has an
obderrate bosom. Oh, my young friend, who else could have resisted
the pleading of sixteen of our fairest sisters, and withstood their
exhortations to subscribe to our noble society for providing the
infant negroes in the West Indies with flannel waistcoats and moral
pocket-handkerchiefs?'
'What's a moral pocket-ankercher?' said Sam; 'I never see one o' them
articles o' furniter.'
'Those which combine amusement With instruction, my young friend,'
replied Mr. Stiggins, 'blending select tales with wood-cuts.'
'Oh, I know,' said Sam; 'them as hangs up in the linen-drapers' shops,
with beggars' petitions and all that 'ere upon 'em?'
Mr. Stiggins began a third round of toast, and nodded assent. 'And he
wouldn't be persuaded by the ladies, wouldn't he?' said Sam.
'Sat and smoked his pipe, and said the infant negroes were--what did he
say the infant negroes were?' said Mrs. Weller.
'Little humbugs,' replied Mr. Stiggins, deeply affected.
'Said the infant negroes were little humbugs,' repeated Mrs. Weller. And
they both groaned at the atrocious conduct of the elder Mr. Weller.
A great many more iniquities of a similar nature might have been
disclosed, only the toast being all eaten, the tea having got very
weak, and Sam holding out no indications of meaning to go, Mr. Stiggins
suddenly recollected that he had a most pressing appointment with the
shepherd, and took himself off accordingly.
The tea-things had been scarcely put away, and the hearth swept up, when
the London coach deposited Mr. Weller, senior, at the door; his legs
deposited him in the bar; and his eyes showed him his son.
'What, Sammy!' exclaimed the father.
'What, old Nobs!' ejaculated the son. And they shook hands heartily.
'Wery glad to see you, Sammy,' said the elder Mr. Weller, 'though how
you've managed to get over your mother-in-law, is a mystery to me. I
only vish you'd write me out the receipt, that's all.'
'Hush!' said Sam, 'she's at home, old feller.' 'She ain't vithin
hearin',' replied Mr. Weller; 'she always goes and blows up, downstairs,
for a couple of hours arter tea; so we'll just give ourselves a damp,
Sammy.'
Saying this, Mr. Weller mixed two glasses of spirits-and-water, and
produced a couple of pipes. The father and son sitting down opposite
each other; Sam on one side of the fire, in the high-backed chair, and
Mr. Weller, senior, on the other, in an easy ditto, they proceeded to
enjoy themselves with all due gravity.
'Anybody been here, Sammy?' asked Mr. Weller, senior, dryly, after a
long silence.
Sam nodded an expressive assent.
'Red-nosed chap?' inquired Mr. Weller.
Sam nodded again.
'Amiable man that 'ere, Sammy,' said Mr. Weller, smoking violently.
'Seems so,' observed Sam.
'Good hand at accounts,' said Mr. Weller. 'Is he?' said Sam.
'Borrows eighteenpence on Monday, and comes on Tuesday for a shillin' to
make it up half-a-crown; calls again on Vensday for another half-crown
to make it five shillin's; and goes on, doubling, till he gets it up to
a five pund note in no time, like them sums in the 'rithmetic book 'bout
the nails in the horse's shoes, Sammy.'
Sam intimated by a nod that he recollected the problem alluded to by his
parent.
'So you vouldn't subscribe to the flannel veskits?' said Sam, after
another interval of smoking.
'Cert'nly not,' replied Mr. Weller; 'what's the good o' flannel veskits
to the young niggers abroad? But I'll tell you what it is, Sammy,' said
Mr. Weller, lowering his voice, and bending across the fireplace; 'I'd
come down wery handsome towards strait veskits for some people at home.'
As Mr. Weller said this, he slowly recovered his former position, and
winked at his first-born, in a profound manner.
'It cert'nly seems a queer start to send out pocket-'ankerchers to
people as don't know the use on 'em,' observed Sam.
'They're alvays a-doin' some gammon of that sort, Sammy,' replied his
father. 'T'other Sunday I wos walkin' up the road, wen who should I see,
a-standin' at a chapel door, with a blue soup-plate in her hand, but
your mother-in-law! I werily believe there was change for a couple o'
suv'rins in it, then, Sammy, all in ha'pence; and as the people come
out, they rattled the pennies in it, till you'd ha' thought that no
mortal plate as ever was baked, could ha' stood the wear and tear. What
d'ye think it was all for?'
'For another tea-drinkin', perhaps,' said Sam.
'Not a bit on it,' replied the father; 'for the shepherd's water-rate,
Sammy.'
'The shepherd's water-rate!' said Sam.
'Ay,' replied Mr. Weller, 'there was three quarters owin', and the
shepherd hadn't paid a farden, not he--perhaps it might be on account
that the water warn't o' much use to him, for it's wery little o' that
tap he drinks, Sammy, wery; he knows a trick worth a good half-dozen
of that, he does. Hows'ever, it warn't paid, and so they cuts the water
off. Down goes the shepherd to chapel, gives out as he's a persecuted
saint, and says he hopes the heart of the turncock as cut the water off,
'll be softened, and turned in the right vay, but he rayther thinks
he's booked for somethin' uncomfortable. Upon this, the women calls
a meetin', sings a hymn, wotes your mother-in-law into the chair,
wolunteers a collection next Sunday, and hands it all over to the
shepherd. And if he ain't got enough out on 'em, Sammy, to make him free
of the water company for life,' said Mr. Weller, in conclusion, 'I'm one
Dutchman, and you're another, and that's all about it.'
Mr. Weller smoked for some minutes in silence, and then resumed--
'The worst o' these here shepherds is, my boy, that they reg'larly turns
the heads of all the young ladies, about here. Lord bless their little
hearts, they thinks it's all right, and don't know no better; but
they're the wictims o' gammon, Samivel, they're the wictims o' gammon.'
'I s'pose they are,' said Sam.
'Nothin' else,' said Mr. Weller, shaking his head gravely; 'and wot
aggrawates me, Samivel, is to see 'em a-wastin' all their time and
labour in making clothes for copper-coloured people as don't want 'em,
and taking no notice of flesh-coloured Christians as do. If I'd my vay,
Samivel, I'd just stick some o' these here lazy shepherds behind a heavy
wheelbarrow, and run 'em up and down a fourteen-inch-wide plank all day.
That 'ud shake the nonsense out of 'em, if anythin' vould.'
Mr. Weller, having delivered this gentle recipe with strong emphasis,
eked out by a variety of nods and contortions of the eye, emptied his
glass at a draught, and knocked the ashes out of his pipe, with native
dignity.
He was engaged in this operation, when a shrill voice was heard in the
passage.
'Here's your dear relation, Sammy,' said Mr. Weller; and Mrs. W. hurried
into the room.
'Oh, you've come back, have you!' said Mrs. Weller.
'Yes, my dear,' replied Mr. Weller, filling a fresh pipe.
'Has Mr. Stiggins been back?' said Mrs. Weller.
'No, my dear, he hasn't,' replied Mr. Weller, lighting the pipe by the
ingenious process of holding to the bowl thereof, between the tongs, a
red-hot coal from the adjacent fire; and what's more, my dear, I shall
manage to surwive it, if he don't come back at all.'
'Ugh, you wretch!' said Mrs. Weller.
