And I tell you another thing, Jobling," says Mr.Guppy, who has suddenly lowered his voice and become familiar again, "he's an extraordinary old chap--always rummaging among a litter of papers and grubbing away at teaching himself to read and write, without getting on a bit, as it seems to me.

He is a most extraordinary old chap, sir.

I don't know but what it might be worth a fellow's while to look him up a bit." "You don't mean--" Mr.Jobling begins.
"I mean," returns Mr.Guppy, shrugging his shoulders with becoming modesty, "that I can't make him out.

I appeal to our mutual friend Smallweed whether he has or has not heard me remark that I can't make him out." Mr.Smallweed bears the concise testimony, "A few!" "I have seen something of the profession and something of life, Tony," says Mr.Guppy, "and it's seldom I can't make a man out, more or less.

But such an old card as this, so deep, so sly, and secret (though I don't believe he is ever sober), I never came across.