“On such an occasion I will give you, Master Copperfield,” said Mrs. Micawber, “in a little more flip,” for we had been having some already, “the memory of my papa and mama.”

“Are they dead, ma’am?” I inquired, after drinking the toast in a wineglass.

“My mama departed this life,” said Mrs. Micawber, “before Mr. Micawber’s difficulties commenced, or at least before they became pressing. My papa lived to bail Mr. Micawber several times, and then expired, regretted by a numerous circle.”

Mrs. Micawber shook her head, and dropped a pious tear upon the twin who happened to be in hand.