We started in life this morning.
'Well, Uncle,' said the boy, 'I'll drink out of anything you like, so long as I can drink to you.

Here's to you, Uncle Sol, and Hurrah for the-- 'Lord Mayor,' interrupted the old man.
'For the Lord Mayor, Sheriffs, Common Council, and Livery,' said the boy.

'Long life to 'em!' The uncle nodded his head with great satisfaction.

'And now,' he said, 'let's hear something about the Firm.' 'Oh! there's not much to be told about the Firm, Uncle,' said the boy, plying his knife and fork.' It's a precious dark set of offices, and in the room where I sit, there's a high fender, and an iron safe, and some cards about ships that are going to sail, and an almanack, and some desks and stools, and an inkbottle, and some books, and some boxes, and a lot of cobwebs, and in one of 'em, just over my head, a shrivelled-up blue-bottle that looks as if it had hung there ever so long.' 'Nothing else ?' said the Uncle.
'No, nothing else, except an old birdcage (I wonder how that ever came there!) and a coal-scuttle.' 'No bankers' books, or cheque books, or bills, or such tokens of wealth rolling in from day to day ?' said old Sol, looking wistfully at his nephew out of the fog that always seemed to hang about him, and laying an unctuous emphasis upon the words.
'Oh yes, plenty of that I suppose,' returned his nephew carelessly; 'but all that sort of thing's in Mr Carker's room, or Mr Morfin's, or MR Dombey's.' 'Has Mr Dombey been there to-day ?' inquired the Uncle.
'Oh yes! In and out all day.' 'He didn't take any notice of you, I suppose ?'.
'Yes he did.

He walked up to my seat,--I wish he wasn't so solemn and stiff, Uncle,--and said, "Oh! you are the son of Mr Gills the Ships' Instrument-maker." "Nephew, Sir," I said.