He was a strong, loose, round-shouldered, shuffling, shaggy fellow, on whom his clothes sat negligently: with a good deal of hair and whisker, deepened in its natural tint, perhaps by smoke and coal-dust: hard knotty hands: and a square forehead, as coarse in grain as the bark of an oak.

A thorough contrast in all respects, to Mr Dombey, who was one of those close-shaved close-cut moneyed gentlemen who are glossy and crisp like new bank-notes, and who seem to be artificially braced and tightened as by the stimulating action of golden showerbaths.
'You have a son, I believe ?' said Mr Dombey.
'Four on 'em, Sir.

Four hims and a her.

All alive!' 'Why, it's as much as you can afford to keep them!' said Mr Dombey.
'I couldn't hardly afford but one thing in the world less, Sir.' 'What is that ?' 'To lose 'em, Sir.' 'Can you read ?' asked Mr Dombey.
'Why, not partick'ler, Sir.' 'Write ?' 'With chalk, Sir ?' 'With anything ?' 'I could make shift to chalk a little bit, I think, if I was put to it,' said Toodle after some reflection.
'And yet,' said Mr Dombey, 'you are two or three and thirty, I suppose ?' 'Thereabouts, I suppose, Sir,' answered Toodle, after more reflection 'Then why don't you learn ?' asked Mr Dombey.
'So I'm a going to, Sir.

One of my little boys is a going to learn me, when he's old enough, and been to school himself.' 'Well,' said Mr Dombey, after looking at him attentively, and with no great favour, as he stood gazing round the room (principally round the ceiling) and still drawing his hand across and across his mouth.