A Punch's show," she says, "a chimbley sweep, a newfundlan dog, or
a drunkin man a-comin round the corner sharp may do it." So it may, Mr
Sweedlepipes,' said Mrs Gamp, 'there's no deniging of it; and though my
books is clear for a full week, I takes a anxious art along with me, I
do assure you, sir.'
'You're so full of zeal, you see!' said Poll. 'You worrit yourself so.'
'Worrit myself!' cried Mrs Gamp, raising her hands and turning up her
eyes. 'You speak truth in that, sir, if you never speaks no more 'twixt
this and when two Sundays jines together. I feels the sufferins of other
people more than I feels my own, though no one mayn't suppoge it. The
families I've had,' said Mrs Gamp, 'if all was knowd and credit done
where credit's doo, would take a week to chris'en at Saint Polge's
fontin!'
'Where's the patient goin?' asked Sweedlepipe.
'Into Har'fordshire, which is his native air. But native airs nor native
graces neither,' Mrs Gamp observed, 'won't bring HIM round.'
'So bad as that?' inquired the wistful barber. 'Indeed!'
Mrs Gamp shook her head mysteriously, and pursed up her lips.
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