“So I do,” replied Bob Sawyer. And so, to do him justice, he did.
“Nothing like dissecting, to give one an appetite,” said Mr. Bob Sawyer, looking round the table.
Mr. Pickwick slightly shuddered.
“By the bye, Bob,” said Mr. Allen, “have you finished that leg yet?”
“Nearly,” replied Sawyer, helping himself to half a fowl as he spoke. “It’s a very muscular one for a child’s.”
“Is it?” inquired Mr. Allen, carelessly.
“Very,” said Bob Sawyer, with his mouth full.
“I’ve put my name down for an arm, at our place,” said Mr. Allen. “We’re clubbing for a subject, and the list is nearly full, only we can’t get hold of any fellow that wants a head. I wish you’d take it.”
“No,” replied Bob Sawyer; “can’t afford expensive luxuries.”
“Nonsense!” said Allen.