At present I am going to 'Change; time, you know, is precious to a merchant." We were by this time close to Cheapside.

"Farewell," said he, "I shall not forget this service.

I trust we shall soon meet again." He then shook me by the hand and went his way.
The next day, as I was seated beside the old woman in the booth, the stranger again made his appearance, and, after a word or two, sat down beside me; the old woman was sometimes reading the Bible, which she had already had two or three days in her possession, and sometimes discoursing with me.

Our discourse rolled chiefly on philological matters.
"What do you call bread in your language ?" said I.
"You mean the language of those who bring me things to buy, or who did; for, as I told you before, I sha'n't buy any more, it's no language of mine, dear--they call bread pannam in their language." "Pannam!" said I, "pannam! evidently connected with, if not derived from, the Latin panis; even as the word tanner, which signifieth a sixpence, is connected with, if not derived from, the Latin tener, which is itself connected with, if not derived from, tawno or tawner, which, in the language of Mr.Petulengro, signifieth a sucking child.

Let me see, what is the term for bread in the language of Mr.Petulengro?
Morro, or manro, as I have sometimes heard it called; is there not some connection between these words and panis?
Yes, I think there is; and I should not wonder if morro, manro, and panis were connected, perhaps derived from the same root; but what is that root?
I don't know--I wish I did; though, perhaps, I should not be the happier.