Similar emotion was undergone by my own father when promoted for his merits from his occupation as a waterman to a situation under Government.

His Christian name was Thomas.

His words at the time (I was then an infant, but so deep was their impression on me, that I committed them to memory) were: Then farewell my trim-built wherry, Oars and coat and badge farewell! Never more at Chelsea Ferry, Shall your Thomas take a spell! -- My father got over it, Mr Boffin, and so shall I.' While delivering these valedictory observations, Wegg continually disappointed Mr Boffin of his hand by flourishing it in the air.

He now darted it at his patron, who took it, and felt his mind relieved of a great weight: observing that as they had arranged their joint affairs so satisfactorily, he would now be glad to look into those of Bully Sawyers.

Which, indeed, had been left over-night in a very unpromising posture, and for whose impending expedition against the Persians the weather had been by no means favourable all day.
Mr Wegg resumed his spectacles therefore.