'Lor, how nice that is to think of!' said Clemency.

At the same time, bringing her thoughts as well as her sight to
bear upon the candle-grease, and becoming abruptly reminiscent of
its healing qualities as a balsam, she anointed her left elbow with
a plentiful application of that remedy.

'You see I've made a good many investigations of one sort and
another in my time,' pursued Mr. Britain, with the profundity of a
sage, 'having been always of an inquiring turn of mind; and I've
read a good many books about the general Rights of things and
Wrongs of things, for I went into the literary line myself, when I
began life.'

'Did you though!' cried the admiring Clemency.

'Yes,' said Mr. Britain: 'I was hid for the best part of two years
behind a bookstall, ready to fly out if anybody pocketed a volume;
and after that, I was light porter to a stay and mantua maker, in
which capacity I was employed to carry about, in oilskin baskets,
nothing but deceptions - which soured my spirits and disturbed my
confidence in human nature; and after that, I heard a world of
discussions in this house, which soured my spirits fresh; and my
opinion after all is, that, as a safe and comfortable sweetener of
the same, and as a pleasant guide through life, there's nothing
like a nutmeg-grater.'

Clemency was about to offer a suggestion, but he stopped her by
anticipating it.