"Joseph!!
Joseph!!!" Thereupon he shook his head and tapped it, expressing
his sense of deficiency in Joseph.
"But my dear young friend," said Mr. Pumblechook, "you must be
hungry, you must be exhausted. Be seated. Here is a chicken had
round from the Boar, here is a tongue had round from the Boar,
here's one or two little things had round from the Boar, that I
hope you may not despise. But do I," said Mr. Pumblechook, getting
up again the moment after he had sat down, "see afore me, him as I
ever sported with in his times of happy infancy? And may I--may
I--?"
This May I, meant might he shake hands? I consented, and he was
fervent, and then sat down again.
"Here is wine," said Mr. Pumblechook. "Let us drink, Thanks to
Fortune, and may she ever pick out her favorites with equal
judgment! And yet I cannot," said Mr. Pumblechook, getting up again,
"see afore me One--and likewise drink to One--without again
expressing--May I--may I--?"
I said he might, and he shook hands with me again, and emptied his
glass and turned it upside down. I did the same; and if I had
turned myself upside down before drinking, the wine could not have
gone more direct to my head.
Mr. Pumblechook helped me to the liver wing, and to the best slice
of tongue (none of those out-of-the-way No Thoroughfares of Pork
now), and took, comparatively speaking, no care of himself at all.
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