Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба

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

           Wellersaidthis,heslowlyrecoveredhisformerposition,andwinkedathisfirst-born,inaprofoundmanner.

           ‘itcert’nlyseemsaqueerstarttosendoutpocket–‘ankercherstopeopleasdon’tknowtheuseon’em,’observedSam.

           ‘They’realvaysa-doin’somegammonofthatsort,Sammy,’repliedhisfather.‘T’otherSundayIwoswalkin’uptheroad,wenwhoshouldIsee,a-standin’atachapeldoor,withabluesoup-plateinherhand,butyourmother-in-law!Iwerilybelievetherewaschangeforacoupleo’suv’rinsinit,then,Sammy,allinha’pence;andasthepeoplecomeout,theyrattledthepenniesinit,tillyou’dha’thoughtthatnomortalplateaseverwasbaked,couldha’stoodthewearandtear.Whatd’yethinkitwasallfor?’

           ‘Foranothertea-drinkin’,perhaps,’saidSam.

           ‘Notabitonit,’repliedthefather;‘fortheshepherd’swater-rate,Sammy.’

           ‘Theshepherd’swater-rate!’saidSam.

           ‘Ay,’repliedMr.Weller,‘therewasthreequartersowin’,andtheshepherdhadn’tpaidafarden,notheperhapsitmightbeonaccountthatthewaterwarn’to’muchusetohim,forit’swerylittleo’thattaphedrinks,Sammy,wery;heknowsatrickworthagoodhalf-dozenofthat,hedoes.Hows’ever,itwarn’tpaid,andsotheycutsthewateroff.

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