re were no hairs in it, and dusting
down the table, so that there might be no crumbs of bread under the
paper, Sam tucked up the cuffs of his coat, squared his elbows, and
composed himself to write.

To ladies and gentlemen who are not in the habit of devoting themselves
practically to the science of penmanship, writing a letter is no very
easy task; it being always considered necessary in such cases for the
writer to recline his head on his left arm, so as to place his eyes
as nearly as possible on a level with the paper, and, while glancing
sideways at the letters he is constructing, to form with his
tongue imaginary characters to correspond. These motions, although
unquestionably of the greatest assistance to original composition,
retard in some degree the progress of the writer; and Sam had
unconsciously been a full hour and a half writing words in small text,
smearing out wrong letters with his little finger, and putting in new
ones which required going over very often to render them visible through
the old blots, when he was roused by the opening of the door and the
entrance of his parent.

'Vell, Sammy,' said the father.

'Vell, my Prooshan Blue,' responded the son, laying down his pen.
'What's the last bulletin about mother-in-law?'

'Mrs. Veller passed a very good night, but is uncommon perwerse, and
unpleasant this mornin'. Signed upon oath, Tony Veller, Esquire. That's
the last vun as was issued, Sammy,' replied Mr. Weller, untying his
shawl.

'No better yet?' inquired Sam.

'All the symptoms aggerawated,' replied Mr. Weller, shaking his
head. 'But wot's that, you're a-doin' of? Pursuit of knowledge under
difficulties, Sammy?'

'I've done now,' said Sam, with slight embarrassment; 'I've been
a-writin'.'

'So I see,' replied Mr. Weller. 'Not to any young 'ooman, I hope,
Sammy?'

'Why, it's no use a-sayin' it ain't,' replied Sam; 'it's a walentine.'

'A what!' exclaimed Mr. Weller, apparently horror-stricken by the word.

'A walentine,' replied Sam. 'Samivel, Samivel,' said Mr. Weller, in
reproachful accents, 'I didn't think you'd ha' done it. Arter the
warnin' you've had o' your father's wicious propensities; arter all
I've said to you upon this here wery subject; arter actiwally seein'
and bein' in the company o' your own mother-in-law, vich I should ha'
thought wos a moral lesson as no man could never ha' forgotten to his
dyin' day! I didn't think you'd ha' done it, Sammy, I didn't think you'd