“Misfortune! well, perhaps it is; at any rate it is very ungenteel to have such a memory. I have heard my wife say that to show you have a long memory looks very vulgar; and that you can’t give a greater proof of gentility than by forgetting a thing as soon as possible—more especially a promise, or an acquaintance when he happens to be shabby. Well, brother, I don’t deny that I may have said that I believe in dukkerin, and in Abershaw’s dook, which you say is his soul; but what I believe one moment, or say I believe, don’t be certain that I shall believe the next, or say I do.”
“Indeed, Jasper, I heard you say on a previous occasion, on quoting a piece of a song, that when a man dies he is cast into the earth, and there’s an end of him.”
“I did, did I? Lor’ what a memory you have, brother. But you are not sure that I hold that opinion now.”
“Certainly not, Jasper. Indeed, after such a sermon as we have been hearing, I should be very shocked if you held such an opinion.”
“However, brother, don’t be sure I do not, however shocking such an opinion may be to you.”
“What an incomprehensible people you are, Jasper.”
“We are rather so, brother; indeed, we have posed wiser heads than yours before now.”
“You seem to care for so little, and yet you rove about a distinct race.”
“I say, brother!”
“Yes, Jasper.”