How is he going to see his way, with his seat in Parliament, and this giving up of his profession?
He owes us near a quarter now." "He paid me two months this morning, Jacob; so he don't owe a farthing." "Very well;--so much the better for us.

I shall just have a few words with Mr.Low, and see what he says to it.

For myself I don't think half so much of Parliament folk as some do.

They're for promising everything before they's elected; but not one in twenty of 'em is as good as his word when he gets there." Mr.Bunce was a copying journeyman, who spent ten hours a day in Carey Street with a pen between his fingers; and after that he would often spend two or three hours of the night with a pen between his fingers in Marlborough Street.

He was a thoroughly hard-working man, doing pretty well in the world, for he had a good house over his head, and always could find raiment and bread for his wife and eight children; but, nevertheless, he was an unhappy man because he suffered from political grievances, or, I should more correctly say, that his grievances were semi-political and semi-social.