Down goes the shepherd to chapel, gives out as he's a persecuted saint, and says he hopes the heart of the turncock as cut the water off, 'll be softened, and turned in the right vay, but he rayther thinks he's booked for somethin' uncomfortable.

Upon this, the women calls a meetin', sings a hymn, wotes your mother-in-law into the chair, wolunteers a collection next Sunday, and hands it all over to the shepherd.

And if he ain't got enough out on 'em, Sammy, to make him free of the water company for life,' said Mr.Weller, in conclusion, 'I'm one Dutchman, and you're another, and that's all about it.' Mr.Weller smoked for some minutes in silence, and then resumed-- 'The worst o' these here shepherds is, my boy, that they reg'larly turns the heads of all the young ladies, about here.

Lord bless their little hearts, they thinks it's all right, and don't know no better; but they're the wictims o' gammon, Samivel, they're the wictims o' gammon.' 'I s'pose they are,' said Sam.
'Nothin' else,' said Mr.Weller, shaking his head gravely; 'and wot aggrawates me, Samivel, is to see 'em a-wastin' all their time and labour in making clothes for copper-coloured people as don't want 'em, and taking no notice of flesh-coloured Christians as do.

If I'd my vay, Samivel, I'd just stick some o' these here lazy shepherds behind a heavy wheelbarrow, and run 'em up and down a fourteen-inch-wide plank all day.
That 'ud shake the nonsense out of 'em, if anythin' vould.' Mr.Weller, having delivered this gentle recipe with strong emphasis, eked out by a variety of nods and contortions of the eye, emptied his glass at a draught, and knocked the ashes out of his pipe, with native dignity.
He was engaged in this operation, when a shrill voice was heard in the passage.
'Here's your dear relation, Sammy,' said Mr.Weller; and Mrs.W.hurried into the room.
'Oh, you've come back, have you!' said Mrs.Weller.
'Yes, my dear,' replied Mr.Weller, filling a fresh pipe.
'Has Mr.Stiggins been back ?' said Mrs.Weller.
'No, my dear, he hasn't,' replied Mr.Weller, lighting the pipe by the ingenious process of holding to the bowl thereof, between the tongs, a red-hot coal from the adjacent fire; and what's more, my dear, I shall manage to surwive it, if he don't come back at all.' 'Ugh, you wretch!' said Mrs.Weller.
'Thank'ee, my love,' said Mr.Weller.