"The chapel," replied Mr.Stiggins; "our chapel; our fold, Mr.Samuel.""She hasn't left the fold nothin', nor the shepherd nothin', nor the animals nothin'," said Sam, decisively; "nor the dogs neither."Mr.Stiggins looked slyly at Sam; glanced at the old gentleman, who was sitting with his eyes closed, as if asleep; and drawing his chair still nearer, said:
"Nothing for me , Mr.Samuel?"
Sam shook his head.
"I think there's something," said Stiggins, turning as pale as he could turn."Consider, Mr.Samuel; no little token?""Not so much as the vorth o' that 'ere old umbrella o' yourn," replied Sam.
"Perhaps," said Mr.Stiggins, hesitatingly, after a few moments' deep thought, "perhaps she recommended me to the care of the man of wrath, Mr.
Samuel?"
"I think that's wery likely, from what he said," rejoined Sam; "he wos a speakin' about you, jist now.""Was he, though?" exclaimed Stiggins, brightening up."Ah! He's changed, I daresay.We might live very comfortably together now, Mr.Samuel, eh?
I could take care of his property when you are away--good care, you see."Heaving a long-drawn sigh, Mr.Stiggins paused for a response.Sam nodded, and Mr.Weller, the elder, gave vent to an extraordinary sound, which being neither a groan, nor a grunt, nor a gasp, nor a growl, seemed to partake in some degree of the character of all four.
Mr.Stiggins, encouraged by this sound, which he understood to betoken remorse, or repentance, looked about him, rubbed his hands, wept, smiled, wept again, and then, walking softly across the room to a well-remembered shelf in one corner, took down a tumbler, and with great deliberation put four lumps of sugar in it.Having got thus far, he looked about him again, and sighed grievously; with that, he walked softly into the bar, and presently returning with the tumbler half full of pine-apple rum, advanced to the kettle which was singing gaily on the hob, mixed his grog, stirred it, sipped it, sat down, and taking a long and hearty pull at the rum and water, stopped for breath.
The elder Mr.Weller, who still continued to make various strange and uncouth attempts to appear asleep, offered not a single word during these proceedings; but when Stiggins stopped for breath, he darted upon him, and snatching the tumbler from his hand, threw the remainder of the rum and water in his face, and the glass itself into the grate.Then, seizing the reverend gentleman firmly by the collar, he suddenly fell to kicking him most furiously: accompanying every application of his top-boots to Mr.Stiggins's person, with sundry violent and incoherent anathemas upon his limbs, eyes, and body.
"Sammy," said Mr.Weller, "put my hat on tight for me."Sam dutifully adjusted the hat with the long hatband more firmly on his father's head, and the old gentleman, resuming his kicking with greater agility than before, tumbled with Mr.Stiggins through the bar, and through the passage, out at the front door, and so into the street; the kicking continuing the whole way, and increasing in vehemence, rather than diminishing, every time the top-boot was lifted.
It was a beautiful and exhilarating sight to see the rednosed man writhing in Mr.Weller's grasp, and his whole frame quivering with anguish as kick followed kick in rapid succession; it was a still more exciting spectacle to behold Mr.Weller, after a powerful struggle, immersing Mr.Stiggins's head in a horse-trough full of water, and holding it there, until he was half suffocated.
"There!" said Mr.Weller, throwing all his energy into one most complicated kick, as he at length permitted Mr.Stiggins to withdraw his head from the trough, "send any vun o' them lazy shepherds here, and I'll pound him to a jelly first, and drownd him artervards! Sammy, help me in, and fill me a small glass of brandy.I'm out o' breath, my boy."[Next Chapter] [Table of Contents]The Pickwick Papers: Chapter 53[Previous Chapter] [Table of Contents]