gentlemen of the very affablest description! I always loved that boy as if he'd been my—my—my own grandfather," said Mr. Bumble, halting for an appropriate comparison. "Master Oliver, my dear, you remember the blessed gentleman in the white waistcoat? Ah! he went to heaven last week in a oak coffin with plated handles, Oliver."
"Come, sir," said Mr. Grimwig tartly, "suppress your feelings."
"I will do my endeavours, sir," replied Mr. Bumble. "How do you do, sir? I hope you are very well."
This salutation was addressed to Mr. Brownlow, who had stepped up to within a short distance of the respectable couple, and who inquired, as he pointed to Monks,—
"Do you know that person?"
"No," replied Mrs. Bumble flatly.
"Perhaps you don't?" said Mr. Brownlow, addressing her spouse.
"I never saw him in all my life," said Mr. Bumble.
"Nor sold him anything, perhaps?"
