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Dickens, Charles, 1812-1870

"Martin Chuzzlewit"

The wan and meagre aspect of the family, the
changed looks of the poor mother, the fevered child she held in her lap,
the air of great despondency and little hope on everything, were plain
to him, and made a deep impression on his mind. He saw it all as
clearly and as quickly, as with his bodily eyes he saw the rough shelves
supported by pegs driven between the logs, of which the house was made;
the flour-cask in the corner, serving also for a table; the blankets,
spades, and other articles against the walls; the damp that blotched the
ground; or the crop of vegetable rottenness in every crevice of the hut.
'How is it that you have come here?' asked the man, when their first
expressions of surprise were over.
'Why, we come by the steamer last night,' replied Mark. 'Our intention
is to make our fortuns with punctuality and dispatch; and to retire upon
our property as soon as ever it's realised. But how are you all? You're
looking noble!'
'We are but sickly now,' said the poor woman, bending over her child.
'But we shall do better when we are seasoned to the place.'
'There are some here,' thought Mark 'whose seasoning will last for
ever.


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