Mr. Nadgett produces the result of his private inquiries—Chap. xxxviii.
"I am going to begin, Tom. Don't you wonder why I butter the inside of the basin!" said his busy little sister, "eh, Tom?"—Chap. xxxix.
"I can't say; it's impossible to tell. I really have no idea. But," said Fips, taking off a very deep impression of the wafer-stamp upon the calf of his left leg, and looking steadily at Tom, "I don't know that it's a matter of much consequence"—Chap. xxxix.
