"The very look," continued Mr. Bumble, "o' that sanwidge makes me that 'ungry you wouldden believe."
"May I cut you another one, sir?" said Anthony.
"'Ark at the boy," said his employer. "Wants ter kill me with kindness. Why, I could eat sixty, I could. But one's too many, reelly, at my time o' life."
"Joo drink beer, Tony?" inquired Mrs. Bumble.
"Yes, madam."
"Then go an' 'ave a nice bottle," she said, beaming.
"Thank you very much, madam."
"Yes, an' give George one," said Mr. Bumble, not to be outdone in generosity.
"Thank you, sir."
"Don't mention it," was the agreeable reply.