"I'm a goin' to leave you, Samivel my boy, and there's no telling ven I shall see you again.Your mother-in-law may ha' been too much for me, or a thousand things may have happened by the time you next hears any news o' the celebrated Mr.Veller o' the Bell Savage.The family name depends wery much upon you, Samivel, and I hope you'll do wot's right by it.Upon all little pints o' breedin', I know I may trust you as vell as if it was my own self.So I've only this here one little bit of adwice to give you.
If ever you gets to up'ards o' fifty, and feels disposed to go a marryin'
anybody--no matter who--jist you shut yourself up in your own room, if you've got one, and pison yourself off hand.Hangin's wulgar, so don't you have nothin' to say to that.Pison yourself, Samivel, my boy, pison yourself, and you'll be glad on it arterwards." With these affecting words, Mr.Weller looked steadfastly on his son, and turning slowly upon his heel, disappeared from his sight.
In the contemplative mood which these words had awakened, Mr.Samuel Weller walked forth from the Great White Horse when his father had left him; and bending his steps towards St.Clement's Church, endeavoured to dissipate his melancholy, by strolling among its ancient precincts.He had loitered about, for some time, when he found himself in a retired spot--a kind of court-yard of venerable appearance--which he discovered had no other outlet than the turning by which he had entered.He was about retracing his steps, when he was suddenly transfixed to the spot by a sudden appearance:
and the mode and manner of this appearance, we now proceed to relate.
Mr.Samuel Weller had been staring up, at the old brick houses now and then, in his deep abstraction, bestowing a wink upon some healthy-looking servant girl as she drew up a blind, or threw open a bed-room window, when the green gate of a garden at the bottom of the yard opened, and a man having emerged therefrom, closed the green gate very carefully after him, and walked briskly towards the very spot where Mr.Weller was standing.
Now, taking this, as an isolated fact, unaccompanied by any attendant circumstances, there was nothing very extraordinary in it; because in many parts of the world, men do come out of gardens, close green gates after them, and even walk briskly away, without attracting any particular share of public observation.It is clear, therefore, that there must have been something in the man, or in his manner, or both, to attract Mr.Weller's particular notice.Whether there was, or not, we must leave the reader to determine, when we have faithfully recorded the behaviour of the individual in question.
When the man had shut the green gate after him, he walked, as we have said twice already, with a brisk pace up the court-yard; but he no sooner caught sight of Mr.Weller, than he faltered, and stopped, as if uncertain, for the moment, what course to adopt.As the green gate was closed behind him, and there was no other outlet but the one in front, however, he was not long in perceiving that he must pass Mr.Samuel Weller to get away.
He therefore resumed his brisk pace, and advanced, staring straight before him.The most extraordinary thing about the man was, that he was contorting his face into the most fearful and astonishing grimaces that ever were beheld.Nature's handywork never was disguised with such extraordinary artificial carving, as the man had overlaid his countenance with in one moment.
"Well!" said Mr.Weller to himself, as the man approached.
"This is wery odd.I could ha' swore it was him."Up came the man, and his face became more frightfully distorted than ever, as he drew nearer.
"I could take my oath to that'ere black hair, and mulberry suit," said Mr.Weller; "only I never see such a face as that, afore."As Mr.Weller said this, the man's features assumed an unearthly twinge, perfectly hideous.He was obliged to pass very near Sam, however, and the scrutinising glance of that gentleman enabled him to detect, under all these appalling twists of feature, something too like the small eyes of Mr.Job Trotter, to be easily mistaken.
"Hallo, you sir!" shouted Sam, fiercely.
The stranger stopped.
"Hallo!" repeated Sam, still more gruffly.
The man with the horrible face, looked, with the greatest surprise, up the court, and down the court, and in at the windows of the houses--everywhere but at Sam Weller--and took another step forward, when he was brought to again, by another shout.
"Hallo, you sir!" said Sam, for the third time.
There was no pretending to mistake where the voice came from now, so the stranger, having no other resource, at last looked Sam Weller full in the face.
"It won't do, Job Trotter," said Sam."Come! None o' that 'ere nonsense.
You ain't so wery 'andsome that you can afford to throw avay many o' your good looks.Bring them 'ere eyes o' your'n back into their proper places, or I'll knock 'em out of your head.D'ye hear?"As Mr.Weller appeared fully disposed to act up to the spirit of this address, Mr.Trotter gradually allowed his face to resume its natural expression;and then giving a start of joy, exclaimed, "What do I see? Mr.Walker!""Ah," replied Sam."You're wery glad to see me, ain't you?""Glad!" exclaimed Job Trotter; "oh, Mr.Walker, if you had but known how I have looked forward to this meeting! It is too much, Mr.Walker;I cannot bear it, indeed I cannot." And with these words, Mr.Trotter burst into a regular inundation of tears, and, flinging his arms around those of Mr.Weller, embraced him closely, in an ecstasy of joy.
"Get off!" cried Sam, indignant at this process, and vainly endeavouring to extricate himself from the grasp of his enthusiastic acquaintance."Get off, I tell you.What are you crying over me for, you portable ingine?""Because I am so glad to see you," replied Job Trotter, gradually releasing Mr.Weller, as the first symptoms of his pugnacity disappeared."Oh, Mr.
Walker, this is too much."