Charles Dickens

“ Job Trotter inserted an end of the pink handkerchief into the corner of each eye, one after the other, and began to weep copiously.
‘Wot’s the matter with the man,’ said Sam, indignantly. ‘Chelsea water–works is nothin’ to you. What are you melting vith now? The consciousness o’ willainy?’
‘I cannot keep my feelings down, Mr. Weller,’ said Job, after a short pause. ”

“ Weller, striking the table with his fist. ‘Ought to ha’ know’d better! why, I know a young ’un as hasn’t had half nor quarter your eddication—as hasn’t slept about the markets, no, not six months—who’d ha’ scorned to be let in, in such a vay; scorned it, Sammy.’ In the excitement of feeling produced by this agonising reflection, Mr. Weller rang the bell, and ordered an additional pint of ale.
‘Well, it’s no use talking about it now,’ said Sam. ‘It’s over, and can’t be helped, and that’s one consolation, as they always says in Turkey, ven they cuts the wrong man’s head off. ”

“ There was no pretending to mistake where the voice came from now, so the stranger, having no other resource, at last looked Sam Weller full in the face.
‘It won’t do, Job Trotter,’ said Sam. ‘Come! None o’ that ‘ere nonsense. You ain’t so wery ‘andsome that you can afford to throw avay many o’ your good looks. ”