Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба

Samuel Weller makes a Pilgrimage to Dorking, and beholds his Mother-in-law

           

           Thedeputy-shepherdseemedbynomeansbestpleasedwithSam’sarrival;andwhenthefirsteffervescenceofthecomplimenthadsubsided,evenMrs.Wellerlookedasifshecouldhavesparedhimwithoutthesmallestinconvenience.However,therehewas;andashecouldn’tbedecentlyturnedout,theyallthreesatdowntotea.

           ‘Andhow’sfather?’saidSam.

           Atthisinquiry,Mrs.Wellerraisedherhands,andturneduphereyes,asifthesubjectweretoopainfultobealludedto.

           Mr.Stigginsgroaned.

           ‘What’sthematterwiththat‘eregen’l’m’n?’inquiredSam.

           ‘He’sshockedatthewayyourfathergoesonin,’repliedMrs.Weller.

           ‘Oh,heis,ishe?’saidSam.

           ‘Andwithtoogoodreason,’addedMrs.Wellergravely.

           Mr.Stigginstookupafreshpieceoftoast,andgroanedheavily.

           ‘Heisadreadfulreprobate,’saidMrs.Weller.

           ‘Amanofwrath!’exclaimedMr.Stiggins.Hetookalargesemi-circularbiteoutofthetoast,andgroanedagain.

           SamfeltverystronglydisposedtogivethereverendMr.Stigginssomethingtogroanfor,butherepressedhisinclination,andmerelyasked,‘What’stheold’unuptonow?’

           ‘Upto,indeed!’saidMrs.Weller,‘Oh,hehasahardheart.Nightafternightdoesthisexcellentmandon’tfrown,Mr.

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