'You don't mean to say it's a batter-pudding!' 'Yes, it is indeed.' 'Why, a batter-pudding,' he said, taking up a table-spoon, 'is my favourite pudding! Ain't that lucky?
Come on, little 'un, and let's see who'll get most.' The waiter certainly got most.

He entreated me more than once to come in and win, but what with his table-spoon to my tea-spoon, his dispatch to my dispatch, and his appetite to my appetite, I was left far behind at the first mouthful, and had no chance with him.

I never saw anyone enjoy a pudding so much, I think; and he laughed, when it was all gone, as if his enjoyment of it lasted still.
Finding him so very friendly and companionable, it was then that I asked for the pen and ink and paper, to write to Peggotty.

He not only brought it immediately, but was good enough to look over me while I wrote the letter.

When I had finished it, he asked me where I was going to school.
I said, 'Near London,' which was all I knew.
'Oh! my eye!' he said, looking very low-spirited, 'I am sorry for that.' 'Why ?' I asked him.
'Oh, Lord!' he said, shaking his head, 'that's the school where they broke the boy's ribs--two ribs--a little boy he was.