Great Expectations

"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. "Ah! poultry,

poultry! You little thought," said Mr. Pumblechook, apostrophizing the

fowl in the dish, "when you was a young fledgling, what was in store for

you. You little thought you was to be refreshment beneath this humble

roof for one as--Call it a weakness, if you will," said Mr. Pumblechook,

getting up again, "but may I? may I--?"

It began to be unnecessary to repeat the form of saying he might, so

he did it at once. How he ever did it so often without wounding himself

with my knife, I don't know.

"And your sister," he resumed, after a little steady eating, "which had

the honor of bringing you up by hand! It's a sad picter, to reflect that

she's no longer equal to fully understanding the honor. May--"

I saw he was about to come at me again, and I stopped him.

"We'll drink her health," said I.

"Ah!" cried Mr. Pumblechook, leaning back in his chair, quite flaccid

with admiration, "that's the way you know 'em, sir!" (I don't know

who Sir was, but he certainly was not I, and there was no third person

present); "that's the way you know the noble-minded, sir! Ever forgiving

and ever affable. It might," said the servile Pumblechook, putting down

his untasted glass in a hurry and getting up again, "to a common person,

have the appearance of repeating--but may I--?"