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The Cricket on the Hearth by Charles Dickens
page 22 of 125 (17%)
Carrier, though he was no great talker himself. Being opened, it
gave admission to a little, meagre, thoughtful, dingy-faced man,
who seemed to have made himself a great-coat from the sack-cloth
covering of some old box; for, when he turned to shut the door, and
keep the weather out, he disclosed upon the back of that garment,
the inscription G & T in large black capitals. Also the word GLASS
in bold characters.

'Good evening, John!' said the little man. 'Good evening, Mum.
Good evening, Tilly. Good evening, Unbeknown! How's Baby, Mum?
Boxer's pretty well I hope?'

'All thriving, Caleb,' replied Dot. 'I am sure you need only look
at the dear child, for one, to know that.'

'And I'm sure I need only look at you for another,' said Caleb.

He didn't look at her though; he had a wandering and thoughtful eye
which seemed to be always projecting itself into some other time
and place, no matter what he said; a description which will equally
apply to his voice.

'Or at John for another,' said Caleb. 'Or at Tilly, as far as that
goes. Or certainly at Boxer.'

'Busy just now, Caleb?' asked the Carrier.

'Why, pretty well, John,' he returned, with the distraught air of a
man who was casting about for the Philosopher's stone, at least.
'Pretty much so. There's rather a run on Noah's Arks at present.
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