"There is a depth in that boy's heart," said the sage, "which might float an argosy."
"Poor dear boy! I think we have put every thing into the knapsack that he can possibly want," said good Mrs. Riccabocca musingly.
The Doctor (continuing his soliloquy.)—"They are strong, but they are not immediately apparent."
Mrs. Riccabocca (resuming hers.)—"They are at the bottom of the knapsack."
The Doctor.—"They will stand long wear and tear."
Mrs. Riccabocca.—"A year, at least, with proper care at the wash."
The Doctor (startled.)—"Care at the wash! What on earth are you talking of, ma'am!"
Mrs. Riccabocca (mildly.)—"The shirts to be sure, my love! And you?"
The Doctor (with a heavy sigh.)—"The feelings, ma'am!" Then, after a pause, taking his wife's hand affectionately—"But you did quite right to think of the shirts; Mr. Dale said very truly—"
Mrs. Riccabocca.—"What?"