'What, my
lovely Sairey! There you air!'
'What a boy he is!' cried the tender-hearted Poll, actually sobbing
over him. 'I never see sech a boy! It's all his fun. He's full of it.
He shall go into the business along with me. I am determined he shall.
We'll make it Sweedlepipe and Bailey. He shall have the sporting branch
(what a one he'll be for the matches!) and me the shavin'. I'll make
over the birds to him as soon as ever he's well enough. He shall have
the little bullfinch in the shop, and all. He's sech a boy! I ask your
pardon, ladies and gentlemen, but I thought there might be some one here
that know'd him!'
Mrs Gamp had observed, not without jealousy and scorn, that a favourable
impression appeared to exist in behalf of Mr Sweedlepipe and his
young friend; and that she had fallen rather into the background in
consequence. She now struggled to the front, therefore, and stated her
business.
'Which, Mr Chuzzlewit,' she said, 'is well beknown to Mrs Harris as has
one sweet infant (though she DO not wish it known) in her own family by
the mother's side, kep in spirits in a bottle; and that sweet babe she
see at Greenwich Fair, a-travelling in company with a pink-eyed lady,
Prooshan dwarf, and livin' skelinton, which judge her feelings when the
barrel organ played, and she was showed her own dear sister's child, the
same not bein' expected from the outside picter, where it was painted
quite contrairy in a livin' state, a many sizes larger, and performing
beautiful upon the Arp, which never did that dear child know or do;
since breathe it never did, to speak on in this wale! And Mrs Harris, Mr
Chuzzlewit, has knowed me many year, and can give you information that
the lady which is widdered can't do better and may do worse, than let me
wait upon her, which I hope to do.
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