"A multiplying eye is a very distressing thing," said Mark Clark.
"It always comes on when I have been in a public-house a little time," said Joseph Poorgrass, meekly. 'Yes; I see two of every sort, as if I were some holy man living in the times of King Noah and entering into the ark.... Y-y-y-yes," he added, becoming much affected by the picture of himself as a person thrown away, and shedding tears; "I feel too good for England: I ought to have lived in Genesis by rights, like the other men of sacrifice, and then I shouldn't have b-b-been called a d-d-drunkard in such a way!"
"I wish you'd show yourself a man of spirit, and not sit whining there!"
"Show myself a man of spirit? .. Ah, well! let me take the name of drunkard humbly—let me be a man of contrite knees—let it be! I know that I always do say 'Please God' afore I do anything, from my getting up to my going down of the same, and I am willing to take as much disgrace as belongs to that holy act. Hah, yes!... But not a man of spirit? Have I ever allowed the toe of pride to be lifted against my person without shouting manfully that I question the right to do so? I inquire that query boldly!"
