‘Beg your pardon, sir,’ he said, renewing the subject, andaddressing chanel bags sale Mr. Pickwick, after a considerable pause, ‘nothin’
     　　personal, I hope, sir; I hope you ha’n’t got a widder, sir.’
     　　‘Not I,’ replied Mr. Pickwick, laughing; and while Mr. Pickwicklaughed, Sam Weller informed his parent in a whisper, of therelation in which he stood towards that gentleman.
     　　‘Beg your pardon, sir,’ said Mr. Weller, senior, taking off his hat,‘I hope you’ve no fault to find with Sammy, sir?’
     　　‘None whatever,’ said Mr. Pickwick.
     　　‘Wery chanel bags glad to hear it, sir,’ replied the old man; ‘I took a gooddeal o’ pains with his eddication, sir; let him run in the streetswhen he was wery young, and shift for hisself. It’s the only way tomake a boy sharp, sir.’
     　　‘Rather a dangerous process, I should imagine,’ said Mr.
     　　Pickwick, with a smile.
     　　‘And not a wery sure one, neither,’ added Mr. Weller; ‘I gotreg’larly done the other day.’
     　　‘No!’ chanel bags said his father.
     　　‘I did,’ said the son; and he proceeded to relate, in as few wordsas possible, how he had fallen a ready dupe to the stratagems ofJob Trotter.
     　　Mr. Weller, senior, listened to the tale with the most profoundattention, and, at its termination, said―‘Worn’t one o’ these chaps slim and tall, with long hair, and thegift o’ the gab wery gallopin’?’
     　　Mr. Pickwick did not quite understand the last chanel handbags item ofdescription, but, comprehending the first, said ‘Yes,’ at a venture.
     　　‘T’ other’s a black-haired chap in mulberry livery, with a werylarge head?’
     　　‘Yes, yes, he is,’ said Mr. Pickwick and Sam, with greatearnestness. ‘Then I know where they are, and that’s all about it,’
     　　said Mr. Weller; ‘they’re at Ipswich, safe enough, them two.’
     　　‘No!’ said Mr. Pickwick.
     　　‘Fact,’ said Mr. Weller, ‘and I’ll tell you how I know it. I work chanel bags anIpswich coach now and then for a friend o’ mine. I worked downthe wery day arter the night as you caught the rheumatic, and atthe Black Boy at Chelmsford―the wery place they’d come to―Itook ’em up, right through to Ipswich, where the man-servant―him in the mulberries―told me they was a-goin’ to put up for along time.’