Such a downy tip was on his callow chin, that he seemed half fledged like a young bird; and a compassionate observer might have urged that, if he had not singed the calves of his legs, he would have died of cold.

He had a superior eye-glass dangling round his neck, but unfortunately had such flat orbits to his eyes and such limp little eyelids that it wouldn't stick in when he put it up, but kept tumbling out against his waistcoat buttons with a click that discomposed him very much.
'Oh, I say.

Look here! My father's not in the way, and won't be in the way to-day,' said Barnacle Junior.

'Is this anything that I can do ?' (Click! Eye-glass down.

Barnacle Junior quite frightened and feeling all round himself, but not able to find it.) 'You are very good,' said Arthur Clennam.