Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба

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

           Downgoestheshepherdtochapel,givesoutashe’sapersecutedsaint,andsayshehopestheheartoftheturncockascutthewateroff,‘llbesoftened,andturnedintherightvay,butheraytherthinkshe’sbookedforsomethin’uncomfortable.Uponthis,thewomencallsameetin’,singsahymn,wotesyourmother-in-lawintothechair,wolunteersacollectionnextSunday,andhandsitallovertotheshepherd.Andifheain’tgotenoughouton’em,Sammy,tomakehimfreeofthewatercompanyforlife,’saidMr.Weller,inconclusion,‘I’moneDutchman,andyou’reanother,andthat’sallaboutit.’

           Mr.Wellersmokedforsomeminutesinsilence,andthenresumed

           ‘Theworsto’thesehereshepherdsis,myboy,thattheyreg’larlyturnstheheadsofalltheyoungladies,abouthere.Lordblesstheirlittlehearts,theythinksit’sallright,anddon’tknownobetter;butthey’rethewictimso’gammon,Samivel,they’rethewictimso’gammon.’

           ‘Is’posetheyare,’saidSam.

           ‘Nothin’else,’saidMr.Weller,shakinghisheadgravely;‘andwotaggrawatesme,Samivel,istosee’ema-wastin’alltheirtimeandlabourinmakingclothesforcopper-colouredpeopleasdon’twant’em,andtakingnonoticeofflesh-colouredChristiansasdo.IfI’dmyvay,Samivel,I’djuststicksomeo’theseherelazyshepherdsbehindaheavywheelbarrow,andrun’emupanddownafourteen-inch-wideplankallday.

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