u better than nothin' at all." I thought it best to make
that rayther strong,' said Sam, looking up.

Mr. Weller nodded approvingly, and Sam resumed.

'"So I take the privilidge of the day, Mary, my dear--as the gen'l'm'n
in difficulties did, ven he valked out of a Sunday--to tell you that the
first and only time I see you, your likeness was took on my hart in much
quicker time and brighter colours than ever a likeness was took by the
profeel macheen (wich p'raps you may have heerd on Mary my dear) altho
it DOES finish a portrait and put the frame and glass on complete,
with a hook at the end to hang it up by, and all in two minutes and a
quarter."'

'I am afeerd that werges on the poetical, Sammy,' said Mr. Weller
dubiously.

'No, it don't,' replied Sam, reading on very quickly, to avoid
contesting the point--

'"Except of me Mary my dear as your walentine and think over what I've
said.--My dear Mary I will now conclude." That's all,' said Sam.

'That's rather a Sudden pull-up, ain't it, Sammy?' inquired Mr. Weller.

'Not a bit on it,' said Sam; 'she'll vish there wos more, and that's the
great art o' letter-writin'.'

'Well,' said Mr. Weller, 'there's somethin' in that; and I wish your
mother-in-law 'ud only conduct her conwersation on the same gen-teel
principle. Ain't you a-goin' to sign it?'

'That's the difficulty,' said Sam; 'I don't know what to sign it.'

'Sign it--"Veller",' said the oldest surviving proprietor of that name.

'Won't do,' said Sam. 'Never sign a walentine with your own name.'

'Sign it "Pickwick," then,' said Mr. Weller; 'it's a wery good name, and
a easy one to spell.' 'The wery thing,' said Sam. 'I COULD end with a
werse; what do you think?'

'I don't like it, Sam,' rejoined Mr. Weller. 'I never know'd a
respectable coachman as wrote poetry, 'cept one, as made an affectin'
copy o' werses the night afore he was hung for a highway robbery; and he
wos only a Cambervell man, so even that's no rule.'

But Sam was not to be dissuaded from the poetical idea that had occurred
to him, so he signed the letter--

'Your love-sick
Pickwick.'

And having folded it, in a very intricate manner, squeezed a downhill
direction in one corner: 'To Mary, Housemaid, at Mr. Nupkins's, Mayor's,
Ipswich, Suffolk'; and put it into his pocket, wafered, and ready for
the general post. This important business having been transacted, Mr.
Weller the elder proceeded to open that, on which he h