It's Over, And Can't Be Helped, And

"my Good Fellow," Retorted Mr. Boffin, "you Have My Word; And How You Can Have That, Without My Honour Too, I Don't Know. I've Sorted A Lot Of Dust In My Time, But I Never Knew The Two Things Go Into Separate Heaps."

There's A Young Man Hid With Me, In Comparison With Which Young Man I Am A Angel. That Young Man Hears The Words I Speak. That Young Man Has A Secret Way Pecooliar To Himself, Of Getting At A Boy, And At His Heart, And At His Liver.

Oh The Nerves, The Nerves; The Mysteries Of This Machine Called Man! Oh The Little That Unhinges It, Poor Creatures That We Are!

He Would Make A Lovely Corpse.

The One Great Principle Of The English Law Is, To Make Business For Itself. There Is No Other Principle Distinctly, Certainly, And Consistently Maintained Through All Its Narrow Turnings.