The judicial attitude, the imperturbable spectacles, the long, pale face and white cravat did not prevent Miss Butterworth from "freeing her mind;" and when she finished the task, a good deal had been made of the case of the insane paupers of Sevenoaks, and there was very little left of Mr.Robert Belcher and Mr.Thomas Buffum.
At the close of her account of what she had seen at the poor-house, and what had passed between her and the great proprietor, Mr.Snow cast his eyes up to the ceiling, pursed his lips, and somewhere in the profundities of his nature, or in some celestial laboratory, unseen by any eyes but his own, prepared his judgments.
"Cases of this kind," said he, at last, to his excited visitor, whose eyes glowed like coals as she looked into his impassive face, "are to be treated with great prudence.

We are obliged to take things as they air.
Personally (with a rising inflection and a benevolent smile), I should rejoice to see the insane poor clothed and in their right mind." "Let us clothe 'em, then, anyway," interjected Miss Butterworth, impatiently.

"And, as for being in their right mind, that's more than can be said of those that have the care of 'em." "Personally--Miss Butterworth, excuse me--I should rejoice to see them clothed and in their right mind, but the age of miracles is past.

We have to deal with the facts of to-day--with things as they air.

It is possible, nay, for aught I know, it may be highly probable, that in other towns pauperism may fare better than it does with us.