up to the light, "it's shamed,' there's a blot there—'I feel myself ashamed.'"
"Werry good," said Mr. Weller. "Go on."
"'Feel myself ashamed, and completely cir—' I forget what this here word is," said Sam, scratching his head with the pen, in vain attempts to remember.
"Why don't you look at it, then?" inquired Mr. Weller.
"So I am a lookin' at it," replied Sam, "but there's another blot. Here's a 'c,' and a 'i,' and a 'd.'"
"Circumwented, p'haps," suggested Mr. Weller.
"No, it ain't that," said Sam, "circumscribed; that's it."
"That ain't as good a word as circumwented, Sammy," said Mr. Weller, gravely.
"Think not?" said Sam.
"Nothin' like it," replied his father.
"But don't you think it means more?" inquired Sam.
"Vell p'raps it is a more tenderer word," said Mr. Weller, after a few moments' reflection. "Go on, Sammy."
"'Feel myself ashamed and completely circumscribed in a dressin' of you, for you are a nice gal and nothin' but it.'"
"That's a werry pretty sentiment," said the elder Mr. Weller, removing his pipe to make way for the remark.
"Yes, I think it is rayther good," observed Sam, highly flattered.
"Wot I like in that 'ere style of writin'," said the elder Mr. Weller, "is, that there ain't no callin' names in it,—no Wenuses, nor nothin' o' that kind. Wot's the good o' callin' a young 'ooman a Wenus or a angel, Sammy?"
"Ah! what, indeed?" replied Sam.
"You might jist as well call her a griffin, or a unicorn, or a king's arms at once, which is werry well known to be a col-lection o' fabulous animals," added Mr. Weller.
"Just as well," replied Sam.
"Drive on, Sammy," said Mr. Weller. Sam complied with the request, and proceeded as follows;
