afely, but by no means otherwise. When he
did throw his head back and take it off quick, I had a horrible
fear, I confess, of seeing him meet the fate of the lamented
Topsawyer, and fall lifeless on the carpet. But it did not hurt
him. On the contrary. I thought he seemed the fresher for it. 'What
have we got here?' he said, putting a fork into my dish. 'Not
chops?'

"'Chops.' I said.

"'Lord bless my soul,' he exclaimed, 'I didn't know they were
chops. Why, a chop's the very thing to take off the bad effect of
that beer. Ain't it lucky?'

"So he took a chop by the bone in one hand and a potato in the
other, and ate away with a very good appetite to my extreme
satisfaction. He afterwards took another chop and another potato,
and after that another chop and another potato. When we had done he
brought me a pudding, and having set it before me seemed to
ruminate, and to be absent in his mind for some moments.

"'How's the pie?' he said, rousing himself.

"'It's a pudding,' I made answer.

"'Pudding,' he exclaimed, 'why, bless me, so it is. What?' looking
nearer at it, 'you don't mean to say it's a batter pudding!'

"'Yes, it is indeed.'

"'Why, a batter pudding,' he said, taking up a tablespoon, 'is my
favourite pudding! Aint it lucky? Come on, pitch in, and let's see
who'll get most.'

"The waiter certainly got most. He entreated me more than once to
come in and win, but what with his tablespoon to my teaspoon, his
dispatch to my dispatch, and his appetite to my appetite I was left
far behind at the first mouthful, and had no chance with him."

We are all sufficiently familiar with the vast amount and variety of
humour with which Dickens enriched his writings. It is not aphoristic,
but flows along in a light sparkling stream. This is what we should
expect from a man who wrote so much and so rapidly. His thoughts did not
concentrate and crystallize into a few sharply cut expressions, and he
has left us scarcely any sayings which will live as "household words."
Moreover, in his bold style of writing he sought to produce effects by
broad strokes and dashes--not afraid of an excess of caricature, from
which he left his readers to deduct the discount. Taine says he was "too
mad." But he was daring, and cared little for the risk of being
ludicrous, providing he escaped the certa