“Not along of my being heer, ma’am, I hope?” said Mr. Peggotty. “Unless my wits is gone a bahd’s neezing”⁠—by which Mr. Peggotty meant to say, bird’s-nesting⁠—“this morning, ’tis along of me as you’re a-going to quit us?”

“You have something to say, my good friend,” returned my aunt, “and will do better without me.”

“By your leave, ma’am,” returned Mr. Peggotty, “I should take it kind, pervising you doen’t mind my clicketten, if you’d bide heer.”

“Would you?” said my aunt, with short good-nature. “Then I am sure I will!”