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--"As much as makes it," continued Sam, "altogether, eleven hundred and eighty pound.""Indeed!" said Mr.Pickwick."I am delighted to hear it.I congratulate you, Mr.Weller, on having done so well.""Vait a minit, sir," said Mr.Weller, raising his hand in a deprecatory manner."Get on, Samivel.""This here money," said Sam, with a little hesitation, "he's anxious to put someveres, vere he knows it'll be safe, and I'm wery anxious too, for if he keeps it, he'll go a lendin' it to somebody, or inwestin' property in horses, or droppin' his pocket-book down a airy, or makin' a Egyptian mummy of his-self in some vay or another.""Wery good, Samivel," observed Mr.Weller, in as complacent a manner as if Sam had been passing the highest eulogiums on his prudence and foresight.

"Wery good."

"For vich reasons," continued Sam, plucking nervously at the brim of his hat; "for vich reasons, he's drawd it out to-day, and come here vith me to say, leastvays to offer, or in other words to--""--To say this here," said the elder Mr.Weller, impatiently, "that it ain't o' no use to me.I'm a goin' to vork a coach reg'lar, and ha'nt got noveres to keep it in, unless I vos to pay the guard for takin' care on it, or to put it in vun o' the coach pockets, vich 'ud be a temptation to the insides.If you'll take care on it for me, sir, I shall be wery much obliged to you.P'raps," said Mr.Weller, walking up to Mr.Pickwick and whispering in his ear, "p'raps it'll go a little vay towards the expenses o' that 'ere conwiction.All I say is, just you keep it till I ask you for it again." With these words, Mr.Weller placed the pocket-book in Mr.

Pickwick's hands, caught up his hat, and ran out of the room with a celerity scarcely to be expected from so corpulent a subject.

"Stop him, Sam!" exclaimed Mr.Pickwick, earnestly."Overtake him; bring him back instantly! Mr.Weller--here--come back!"Sam saw that his master's injunctions were not to be disobeyed; and catching his father by the arm as he was descending the stairs, dragged him back by main force.

"My good friend," said Mr.Pickwick, taking the old man by the hand;"your honest confidence overpowers me."

"I don't see no occasion for nothin' o' the kind, sir," replied Mr.

Weller, obstinately.

"I assure you, my good friend, I have more money than I can ever need;far more than a man at my age can ever live to spend," said Mr.Pickwick.

"No man knows how much he can spend, till he tries," observed Mr.Weller.

"Perhaps not," replied Mr.Pickwick; "but as I have no intention of trying any such experiments, I am not likely to come to want.I must beg you to take this back, Mr.Weller.""Wery well," said Mr.Weller with a discontented look."Mark my vords, Sammy.I'll do somethin' desperate vith this here property; somethin' desperate!""You'd better not," replied Sam.

Mr.Weller reflected for a short time, and then, buttoning up his coat with great determination, said:

"I'll keep a pike."

"Wot!" exclaimed Sam.

"A pike," rejoined Mr.Weller, through his set teeth; "I'll keep a pike.

Say good bye to your father, Samivel.I dewote the remainder o' my days to a pike."This threat was such an awful one, and Mr.Weller besides appearing fully resolved to carry it into execution, seemed so deeply mortified by Mr.Pickwick's refusal, that that gentleman, after a short reflection, said:

"Well, well, Mr.Weller, I will keep the money.I can do more good with it, perhaps, than you can.""Just the wery thing, to be sure," said Mr.Weller, brightening up;"o' course you can, sir."

"Say no more about it," said Mr.Pickwick, locking the pocket-book in his desk; "I am heartily obliged to you, my good friend.Now sit down again.

I want to ask your advice."

The internal laughter occasioned by the triumphant success of his visit, which had convulsed not only Mr.Weller's face, but his arms, legs, and body also, during the locking up of the pocket-book, suddenly gave place to the most dignified gravity as he heard these words.

"Wait outside a few minutes, Sam, will you?" said Mr.Pickwick.

Sam immediately withdrew.

Mr.Weller looked uncommonly wise and very much amazed, when Mr.Pickwick opened the discourse by saying:

"You are not an advocate for matrimony, I think, Mr.Weller?"Mr.Weller shook his head.He was wholly unable to speak; vague thoughts of some wicked widow having been successful in her designs on Mr.Pickwick, choked his utterance.

"Did you happen to see a young girl downstairs when you came in just now with your son?" inquired Mr.Pickwick.

"Yes.I see a young gal," replied Mr.Weller, shortly.

"What did you think of her, now? Candidly, Mr.Weller, what did you think of her?""I thought she wos wery plump and vell made," said Mr.Weller, with a critical air.

"So she is," said Mr.Pickwick, "so she is.What did you think of her manners, from what you saw of her?""Wery pleasant," rejoined Mr.Weller."Wery pleasant and conformable."The precise meaning which Mr.Weller attached to this last-mentioned adjective, did not appear; but, as it was evident from the tone in which he used it that it was a favourable expression, Mr.Pickwick was as well satisfied as if he had been thoroughly enlightened on the subject.

"I take a great interest in her, Mr.Weller," said Mr.Pickwick.

Mr.Weller coughed.

"I mean an interest in her doing well," resumed Mr.Pickwick; "a desire that she may be comfortable and prosperous.You understand?""Wery clearly," replied Mr.Weller, who understood nothing yet.

"That young person," said Mr.Pickwick, "is attached to your son.""To Samivel Veller!" exclaimed the parent.

"Yes," said Pickwick.

"It's nat'ral," said Mr.Weller, after some consideration, "nat'ral, but rayther alarmin'.Sammy must be careful.""How do you mean?" inquired Mr.Pickwick.

"Wery careful that he don't say nothin' to her," responded Mr.Weller.

"Wery careful that he ain't led avay, in a innocent moment, to say anythink as may lead to a conwiction for breach.You're never safe vith 'em, Mr.