“Or as certain as they used to teach at school (the same school where I picked up so much ’umbleness), from nine o’clock to eleven, that labour was a curse; and from eleven o’clock to one, that it was a blessing and a cheerfulness, and a dignity, and I don’t know what all, eh?” said he with a sneer. “You preach, about as consistent as they did. Won’t ’umbleness go down? I shouldn’t have got round my gentleman fellow-partner without it, I think.⁠—Micawber, you old bully, I’ll pay you !”

Mr. Micawber, supremely defiant of him and his extended finger, and making a great deal of his chest until he had slunk out at the door, then addressed himself to me, and proffered me the satisfaction of “witnessing the reestablishment of mutual confidence between himself and Mrs. Micawber.” After which, he invited the company generally to the contemplation of that affecting spectacle.