"Who the deuce!--no bones broken, that's one thing.

The fellow--there, look at him: he's like a glass tortoise." "It's a chiwal glass," Crickledon remarked, and laid finger on the star in the centre.
"Gentleman ran slap into me," said Crummins, depositing the frame on the floor of the shop.
"Never had such a shock in my life," continued the gentleman.

"Upon my soul, I took him for a door: I did indeed.

A kind of light flashed from one of your houses here, and in the pitch dark I thought I was at the door of old Mart Tinman's house, and dash me if I did n't go in--crash! But what the deuce do you do, carrying that great big looking-glass at night, man?
And, look here tell me; how was it you happened to be going glass foremost when you'd got the glass on your back ?" "Well, 't ain't my fault, I knows that," rejoined Crummins.

"I came along as careful as a man could.