earth I wouldn’t do for Miss Dombey. She knows that I consider Miss Dombey the most beautiful, the most amiable, the most angelic of her sex. What is her observation upon that? The perfection of sense. 'My dear, you’re right. I think so too.'"
"And so do I!" says the Captain.
"So do I," says Sol Gills.
"Then," resumes Mr. Toots, after some contemplative pulling at his pipe, during which his visage has expressed the most contented reflection, "what an observant woman my wife is! What sagacity she possesses! What remarks she makes! It was only last night, when we were sitting in the enjoyment of connubial bliss—which, upon my word and honour, is a feeble term to express my feelings in the society of my wife—that she said how remarkable it was to consider the present position of our friend Walters. 'Here,' observes my wife, 'he is, released from sea-going, after that first long voyage with his young bride'—as you know he was, Mr. Sols."
"Quite true," says the old Instrument-maker, rubbing his hands.
"'Here he is,' says my wife, 'released from that, immediately; appointed by the same establishment to a post of great trust and confidence at home; showing himself again worthy; mounting up the ladder with the greatest expedition; beloved by every body; assisted by his uncle at the very best possible time of his fortunes'—which I think is the case, Mr. Sols? My wife is always correct."
"Why yes, yes—some of our lost ships, freighted with gold, have come home, truly," returns old Sol, laughing. "Small craft, Mr. Toots, but serviceable to my boy!"
"Exactly so," says Mr. Toots. "You ’ll never find my wife wrong. 'Here he is,' says that most remarkable woman, 'so situated,—and what follows? What follows?' observed Mrs. Toots. Now pray remark, Captain Gills, and Mr. Sols, the depth of my wife’s penetration. 'Why that, under the very eye of Mr. Dombey, there is a foundation going on, upon which a—an Edifice;' that was Mrs. Toots’s word," says Mr. Toots exultingly, "'is gradually rising, perhaps to equal, perhaps excel, that of which he was once the head, and the small beginnings of which (a common fault, but a bad one, Mrs. Toots said) escaped his memory. Thus,' said my wife, 'from his daughter, after all, another Dombey and Son will ascend'—no 'rise;' that was Mrs. Toots’s word—'triumphant!'"
Mr. Toots, with the assistance of his pipe—which he is extremely glad to devote to oratorical purposes, as its proper use affects him with a very uncomfortable sensation—does such grand justice to this prophetic sentence of his wife’s, that the Captain, throwing away his glazed hat in a state of the greatest excitement, cries:
"Sol Gills, you man of science and my ould pardner, what did I tell Wal’r to overhaul on that there night when he first took to business? Was it this here quotation, 'Turn again Whittington, Lord Mayor of London, and when you are old you will never depart from it.' Was it them words, Sol Gills?"
"It certainly was, Ned," replied the old Instrument Maker. "I remember well."
"Then I tell you what," says the Captain, leaning back in his chair,
