Mrs. Trinket. What d'ye buy, what d'ye lack, gentlemen? Gloves, ribbons, and essences,--ribbons, gloves, and essences. ETHEREGE. "And so, my love," said Mr. Copperas, one morning at breakfast, to his wife, his right leg being turned over his left, and his dexter hand conveying to his mouth a huge morsel of buttered cake,--"and, so my love, they say that the old fool is going to leave the jackanapes all his fortune?"…
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