erest, and

reported No job in his absence. The bank closed, the ancient

clerks came out, the usual watch was set, and Mr. Cruncher and

his son went home to tea.

“Now, I tell you where it is!” said Mr. Cruncher to his wife, on

entering. “If, as a honest tradesman, my wentures goes wrong

tonight, I shall make sure that you’ve been praying agin me, and I

shall work you for it just the same as if I seen you do it.”

The dejected Mrs. Cruncher shook her head.

“Why, you’re at it afore my face!” said Mr. Cruncher, with signs

of angry apprehension.

“I am saying nothing.”

Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics

“Well, then; don’t meditate nothing. You might as well flop as

meditate. You may as well go again me one way as another. Drop

it altogether.”

“Yes, Jerry.”

“Yes, Jerry,” repeated Mr. Cruncher sitting down to tea. “Ah! It

is yes, Jerry. That’s about it. You may say yes, Jerry.”

Mr. Cruncher had no particular meaning in these sulky

corroborations, but made use of them, as people not unfrequently

do, to express general ironical dissatisfaction.

“You and your yes, Jerry,” said Mr. Cruncher, taking a bite out

of his bread-and-butter, and seeming to help it down with a large

invisible oyster out of his saucer. “Ah! I think so. I believe you.”

“You were going out tonight?” asked his decent wife, when he

took anot