“Now, girl,” said Mr. Gradgrind, “take this gentleman and me to your father’s; we are going there. What have you got in that bottle you are carrying?”

“Gin,” said Mr. Bounderby.

“Dear, no, sir! It’s the nine oils.”

“The what?” cried Mr. Bounderby.

“The nine oils, sir, to rub father with.”

“Then,” said Mr. Bounderby, with a loud short laugh, “what the devil do you rub your father with nine oils for?”