I wish he was deaf.

I wish he was blind.

Hang him,' cried Brass, as the chant began again.

'I wish he was dead!' Giving utterance to these friendly aspirations in behalf of his client, Mr Sampson composed his face into its usual state of smoothness, and waiting until the shriek came again and was dying away, went up to the wooden house, and knocked at the door.
'Come in!' cried the dwarf.
'How do you do to-night sir ?' said Sampson, peeping in.

'Ha ha ha! How do you do sir?
Oh dear me, how very whimsical! Amazingly whimsical to be sure!' 'Come in, you fool!' returned the dwarf, 'and don't stand there shaking your head and showing your teeth.