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Clearing up all Doubts (if any existed) of the Disinterestedness of Mr. A. Jingle’s Character

           

           ‘Toutsforlicences,’repliedSam.‘Twocovesinvhiteapronstouchestheirhatsvenyouwalkin—"Licence,Sir,licence?"Queersort,them,andtheirmas’rs,too,sirOldBaileyProctorsandnomistake.’

           ‘Whatdotheydo?’inquiredthegentleman.

           ‘Do!You,Sir!Thatain’ttheworstonit,neither.Theyputsthingsintooldgen’l’m’n’sheadsastheyneverdreamedof.Myfather,Sir,wosacoachman.Awidowerhewos,andfatenoughforanythinguncommonfat,tobesure.Hismissusdies,andleaveshimfourhundredpound.DownhegoestotheCommons,toseethelawyeranddrawthebluntverysmarttopbootsonnosegayinhisbutton-holebroad-brimmedtilegreenshawlquitethegen’l’m’n.Goesthroughthearchvay,thinkinghowheshouldinwestthemoneyupcomesthetouter,toucheshishat—"Licence,Sir,licence?"—"What’sthat?"saysmyfather.—"Licence,Sir,"sayshe.—"Whatlicence?"saysmyfather."Marriagelicence,"saysthetouter.—"Dashmyveskit,"saysmyfather,"Ineverthoughto’that."—"Ithinkyouwantsone,Sir,"saysthetouter.Myfatherpullsup,andthinksabit—"No,"sayshe,"damme,I’mtooold,b’sides,I’mamanysizestoolarge,"sayshe.—"Notabitonit,Sir,"saysthetouter.—"Thinknot?"saysmyfather.—"I’msurenot,"sayshe;"wemarriedagen’l’m’ntwiceyoursize,lastMonday.

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