If a gentleman--I mean a real gentleman, not a pretended one, of which sort they say there are a many above ground--if a real gentleman were to lose all his money and come down to work in the mines to get bread for his family--do you think, Curdie, he would work like the lazy ones?
Would he try to do as little as he could for his wages?
I know the sort of the true gentleman pretty near as well as he does himself.

And my wife, that's your mother, Curdie, she's a true lady, you may take my word for it, for it's she that makes me want to be a true gentleman.
Wife, the boy is in the right about your hand.' 'Now, Father, let me feel yours,' said Curdie, daring a little more.
'No, no, my boy,' answered Peter.

'I don't want to hear anything about my hand or my head or my heart.

I am what I am, and I hope growing better, and that's enough.

No, you shan't feel my hand.