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.

'Them as she made, arter she was took ill,' replied the old gentleman.
'Wot was they?'

'Somethin' to this here effect. "Veller," she says, "I'm afeered
I've not done by you quite wot I ought to have done; you're a wery
kind-hearted man, and I might ha' made your home more comfortabler.
I begin to see now," she says, "ven it's too late, that if a married
'ooman vishes to be religious, she should begin vith dischargin' her
dooties at home, and makin' them as is about her cheerful and happy,
and that vile she goes to church, or chapel, or wot not, at all proper
times, she should be wery careful not to con-wert this sort o' thing
into a excuse for idleness or self-indulgence. I have done this," she
says, "and I've vasted time and substance on them as has done it more
than me; but I hope ven I'm gone, Veller, that you'll think on me as I
wos afore I know'd them people, and as I raly wos by natur."

'"Susan," says I--I wos took up wery short by this, Samivel; I von't
deny it, my boy--"Susan," I says, "you've been a wery good vife to me,
altogether; don't say nothin' at all about it; keep a good heart, my
dear; and you'll live to see me punch that 'ere Stiggins's head yet."
She smiled at this, Samivel,' said the old gentleman, stifling a sigh
with his pipe, 'but she died arter all!'

'Vell,' said Sam, venturing to offer a little homely consolation, after
the lapse of three or four minutes, consumed by the old gentleman in
slowly shaking his head from side to side, and solemnly smoking, 'vell,
gov'nor, ve must all come to it, one day or another.'

'So we must, Sammy,' said Mr. Weller the elder.

'There's a Providence in it all,' said Sam.

'O' course there is,' replied his father, with a nod of grave approval.
'Wot 'ud become of the undertakers vithout it, Sammy?'

Lost in the immense field of conjecture opened by this reflection, the
elder Mr. Weller laid his pipe on the table, and stirred the fire with a
meditative visage.

While the old gentleman was thus engaged, a very buxom-looking cook,
dressed in mourning, who had been bust