“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 contact, 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 ain’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 amiable 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.