I done seen some smoked herrin' in de market yisterday mawnin' 'd go mighty good wid de buckwheat cakes an' sugar-house 'lasses--only we ain't got no 'lasses.

I was a-thinkin' dem two ol' cheers in de garret 'd come in handy; ain't nobody sot in em since I been yere; de bottoms is outen one o' dem, but de legs an' backs is good 'nough fer a quart o' 'lasses.

I kin take 'em down to de same place dat Gadgem man tol' me to take de big brass shovel an' tongs--" "All right, Todd," rejoined St.George, highly amused at the boy's economic resources.

"Anything that Mr.Gadgem recommends I agree to.
Yes--take him the chairs--both of them." Even the men at the club had noticed the change and congratulated him on his good spirits.

None of them knew of his desperate straits, although many of them had remarked on the differences in his hospitality, while some of the younger gallants--men who made a study of the height and roll of the collars of their coats and the latest cut of waistcoats--especially the increased width of the frogs on the lapels--had whispered to each other that Temple's clothes certainly needed overhauling; more particularly his shirts, which were much the worse for wear: one critic laying the seeming indifference to the carelessness of a man who was growing old; another shaking his head with the remark that it was Poole's bill which was growing old--older by a good deal than the clothes, and that it would have to be patched and darned with one of old George Brown's (the banker's) scraps of paper before the wearer could regain his reputation of being the best-dressed man in or out of the club.
None of these lapses from his former well-to-do estate made any difference, however, to St.George's intimates when it came to the selection of important guests for places at table or to assist in the success of some unusual function.