"A barrister."

"What did he die of?"

"Consumption."

"How many servants do you keep?"

"One."

"How much have you got a year?"

"I don't know."

"How old are you?"

"Twelve and a quarter."

"Who made your dress?"

"Mother."

"Oh, I say, hang it, that's enough. Stop teasing the kid," said Maria
Morell, when the laughter caused by the last admission had died away.
But the squint spied a friend, ran to her, and there was a great deal of
whispering and sniggering. Presently the pair came sauntering up and sat
down; and after some artificial humming and hawing the newcomer began to
talk, in a loud and fussy manner, about certain acquaintances of hers
called Tweedledum and Tweedledee. Both the fat girl and the