Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба

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

           ‘What?’

           ‘Pisonhisrum-and-water,’saidSam.

           ‘No!’saidMr.Weller,shakinghissoneagerlybythehand,‘wouldyouraly,Sammy-wouldyou,though?’

           ‘Iwould,’saidSam.‘Iwouldn’tbetooharduponhimatfirst.I’ddrophiminthewater-butt,andputthelidon;andifIfoundhewasinsensibletokindness,I’dtrytheotherpersvasion.’

           TheelderMr.Wellerbestowedalookofdeep,unspeakableadmirationonhisson,and,havingoncemoregraspedhishand,walkedslowlyaway,revolvinginhismindthenumerousreflectionstowhichhisadvicehadgivenrise.

           Samlookedafterhim,untilheturnedacorneroftheroad;andthensetforwardonhiswalktoLondon.Hemeditatedatfirst,ontheprobableconsequencesofhisownadvice,andthelikelihoodofhisfather’sadoptingit.Hedismissedthesubjectfromhismind,however,withtheconsolatoryreflectionthattimealonewouldshow;andthisisthereflectionwewouldimpressuponthereader.

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