My father was struck all of a heap.

"Blessed if I know," says he.--"Not know!" says the lawyer.--"No more nor you do," says my father; "can't I put that in arterwards ?"--"Impossible!" says the lawyer.--"Wery well," says my father, after he'd thought a moment, "put down Mrs.Clarke."-- "What Clarke ?" says the lawyer, dipping his pen in the ink.--"Susan Clarke, Markis o' Granby, Dorking," says my father; "she'll have me, if I ask.

I des-say--I never said nothing to her, but she'll have me, I know." The licence was made out, and she DID have him, and what's more she's got him now; and I never had any of the four hundred pound, worse luck.

Beg your pardon, sir,' said Sam, when he had concluded, 'but wen I gets on this here grievance, I runs on like a new barrow with the wheel greased.' Having said which, and having paused for an instant to see whether he was wanted for anything more, Sam left the room.
'Half-past nine--just the time--off at once;' said the gentleman, whom we need hardly introduce as Mr.Jingle.
'Time--for what ?' said the spinster aunt coquettishly.
'Licence, dearest of angels--give notice at the church--call you mine, to-morrow'-- said Mr.Jingle, and he squeezed the spinster aunt's hand.
'The licence!' said Rachael, blushing.
'The licence,' repeated Mr.Jingle-- 'In hurry, post-haste for a licence, In hurry, ding dong I come back.' 'How you run on,' said Rachael.
'Run on--nothing to the hours, days, weeks, months, years, when we're united--run on--they'll fly on--bolt--mizzle--steam-engine--thousand-horse power--nothing to it.' 'Can't--can't we be married before to-morrow morning ?' inquired Rachael.

'Impossible--can't be--notice at the church--leave the licence to-day--ceremony come off to-morrow.' 'I am so terrified, lest my brother should discover us!' said Rachael.
'Discover--nonsense--too much shaken by the break-down--besides--extreme caution--gave up the post-chaise--walked on--took a hackney-coach--came to the Borough--last place in the world that he'd look in--ha! ha!--capital notion that--very.' 'Don't be long,' said the spinster affectionately, as Mr.Jingle stuck the pinched-up hat on his head.
'Long away from you ?--Cruel charmer;' and Mr.Jingle skipped playfully up to the spinster aunt, imprinted a chaste kiss upon her lips, and danced out of the room.
'Dear man!' said the spinster, as the door closed after him.
'Rum old girl,' said Mr.Jingle, as he walked down the passage.
It is painful to reflect upon the perfidy of our species; and we will not, therefore, pursue the thread of Mr.Jingle's meditations, as he wended his way to Doctors' Commons.