to you, Sammy. Wery good. That's the vay to begin. Come to the pint at once. Wery good indeed, Samivel."
Mr. Weller nodded his head an extraordinary number of times, in the excess of his gratification, and waited in a listening attitude for Sam to resume his statement.
"You may sit down, Sam," said Mr. Pickwick, apprehending that the interview was likely to prove rather longer than he had expected.
Sam bowed again and sat down; his father looking round, he continued.
"The gov'ner, sir, has drawn out five hundred and thirty pound."
"Reduced counsels," interposed Mr. Weller, senior, in an undertone.
"It don't much matter vether it's reduced counsels, or wot not," said Sam; "five hundred and thirty pound is the sum, ain't it?"
"All right, Samivel," replied Mr. Weller.
"To vich sum, he has added for the house and bisness—"
"Lease, good-vill, stock, and fixters," interposed Mr. Weller.
—"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
