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“Dickens is fast getting along to the denouncement
of the Bleak House,” said Mrs. Partington, as she saw
a paragraph mentioning the approaching denouement of
the story. “Well, I should think he would have
denounced it long ago, and had it prepared, for I don't
believe they could have made him pay one mill of rent
unless he did it at his own auction. Bleak House, indeed;
and Mr. Dickson a poor man, too, with aliments
enough on him to patternise a whole hospital himself!”

The picture of the Good Samaritan handing the wounded
Jew a quart bottle of Sarsaparilla Bitters attracted her
attention, and she delivered Ike a private lecture on the
humanities, while he sat pulling the cat's tail in the dark
side of the chimney-corner.