“I drove the old piebald.”
“You don’t mean that?” said Sam.
“I do mean that, Sammy,” replied his father, “and I vish you could ha’ seen how tight he held on by the sides wen he did get up, as if he wos afeerd o’ being precipitayted down full six foot, and dashed into a million o’ hatoms. He tumbled in at last, however, and avay ve vent; and I rayther think, I say I rayther think, Samivel, that he found his-self a little jolted ven ve turned the corners.”
“Wot! I s’pose you happened to drive up agin a post or two?” said Sam.
“I’m afeerd,” replied Mr. Weller, in a rapture of winks, “I’m afeerd I took vun or two on ’em, Sammy; he wos a flyin’ out o’ the harm-cheer all the way.”
Here the old gentleman shook his head from side to side, and was seized with a hoarse internal rumbling, accompanied with a violent swelling of the countenance, and a sudden increase in the breadth of all his features; symptoms which alarmed his son not a little.
“Don’t be frightened, Sammy, don’t be frightened,” said the old gentleman, when by dint of much struggling, and various convulsive stamps upon the ground, he had recovered his voice. “It’s only a kind o’ quiet laugh as I’m a tryin’ to come, Sammy.”
“Well, if that’s wot it is,” said Sam, “you’d better not try to come it agin. You’ll find it rayther a dangerous inwention.”
“Don’t you like it, Sammy?” inquired the old gentleman.