We know, Mr. Weller - we, who are men of the world - that a good uniform must work its way with the women, sooner or later.

I am a neat hand at cookery, and I'll tell you what I knocked up for my Christmas-eve dinner in the Library Cart. I knocked up a beefsteak-pudding for one, with two kidneys, a dozen oysters, and a couple of mushrooms thrown in. It's a pudding to put a man in good humour with everything, except the two bottom buttons of his waistcoat.

As I said just now, the world has gone past me. I don't blame it; but I no longer understand it. Tradesmen are not the same as they used to be, apprentices are not the same, business is not the same, business commodities are not the same. Seven-eighths of my stock is old-fashioned. I am an old-fashioned man in an old-fashioned shop, in a street that is not the same as I remember it. I have fallen behind the time, and am too old to catch it again.

No space of regret can make amends for one life's opportunity misused

Nothing that we do, is done in vain. I believe, with all my soul, that we shall see triumph.

We all draw a little and compose a little, and none of us have any idea of time or money.

It is, as Mr. Rokesmith says, a matter of feeling, but Lor how many matters ARE matters of feeling!