“I wos a-thinkin’, Sammy,” said Mr. Weller, eyeing his son, with great earnestness, over his pipe, as if to assure him that however extraordinary and incredible the declaration might appear, it was nevertheless calmly and deliberately uttered. “I wos a-thinkin’, Sammy, that upon the whole I wos wery sorry she wos gone.”

“Vell, and so you ought to be,” replied Sam.

Mr. Weller nodded his acquiescence in the sentiment, and again fastening his eyes on the fire, shrouded himself in a cloud, and mused deeply.

“Those wos wery sensible observations as she made, Sammy,” said Mr. Weller, driving the smoke away with his hand, after a long silence.

“Wot observations?” inquired Sam.