When I say olive-branches,' observed Mr Pecksniff, in explanation, 'I mean, our unpretending luggage.' 'I hope the young ladies will enjoy their trip,' said Martin.
'Oh! that I'm sure we shall!' cried Mercy, clapping her hands.

'Good gracious, Cherry, my darling, the idea of London!' 'Ardent child!' said Mr Pecksniff, gazing on her in a dreamy way.

'And yet there is a melancholy sweetness in these youthful hopes! It is pleasant to know that they never can be realised.

I remember thinking once myself, in the days of my childhood, that pickled onions grew on trees, and that every elephant was born with an impregnable castle on his back.

I have not found the fact to be so; far from it; and yet those visions have comforted me under circumstances of trial.