Nothing but punch!' 'This is an occupation,' said the lawyer, laying down his pen and emptying his glass, 'which seems to bring him before my eyes like the Ghost of Hamlet's father, in the very clothes that he wore on work-a-days.

His coat, his waistcoat, his shoes and stockings, his trousers, his hat, his wit and humour, his pathos and his umbrella, all come before me like visions of my youth.

His linen!' said Mr Brass smiling fondly at the wall, 'his linen which was always of a particular colour, for such was his whim and fancy--how plain I see his linen now!' 'You had better go on, sir,' said Mrs Jiniwin impatiently.
'True, ma'am, true,' cried Mr Brass.

'Our faculties must not freeze with grief.

I'll trouble you for a little more of that, ma'am.