“No, that he hadn’t, my dear,” said Mr. Weller; “and if you’d put an exact model of his own legs on the dinin’-table afore him, he wouldn’t ha’ known ’em. Well, he always walks to his office with a wery handsome gold watch-chain hanging out, about a foot and a quarter, and a gold watch in his fob pocket as was worth⁠—I’m afraid to say how much, but as much as a watch can be⁠—a large, heavy, round manufacter, as stout for a watch, as he was for a man, and with a big face in proportion. ‘You’d better not carry that ’ere watch,’ says the old gen’l’m’n’s friends, ‘you’ll be robbed on it,’ says they. ‘Shall I?’ says he. ‘Yes, you will,’ says they. ‘Well,’ says he, ‘I should like to see the thief as could get this here watch out, for I’m blessed if I