I really don't know," continued Charlie, "which is the worst looking.

I hate them both like poison," and as he concluded, he bit into a piece of bread as fiercely as if he were already engaged in a desperate battle with aunt Rachel, and was biting her in self-defence.
"Well," said Kinch, with the air of a person of vast experience in difficult cases, "I should drown the cat--I'd do that at once--as soon as I got there; then, let me ask you, has Aunt Rachel got corns ?" "Corns! I wish you could see her shoes," replied Charlie.

"Why you could sail down the river in 'em, they are so large.

Yes, she has got corns, bunions, and rheumatism, and everything else." "Ah! then," said Kinch, "your way is clear enough if she has got corns.

I should confine myself to operating on them.