Going into Society

lands near the river's level, that lie about Deptford and the neighbouring market-gardens, a Grizzled Personage in velveteen, with a face so cut up by varieties of weather that he looked as if he had been tattooed,

There was no suspicion of such, he might rest ass

Come out of Society!” says I.
“I can’t. You don’t know what you’re talking about. When you have once gone into Society, you mustn’t come out of it.”

may notice in many phenomenons that get their living out of i

HE an't formed for Society.—I am."

he ain't master of his actions.

and partly because his real name, if he ever had any real name (which was very dubious), was Stakes.
He was a un-common small man, he really was. Certainly not so small as he was made out to be, but where IS your Dwarf as is? He was a most uncommon small man, with a most uncommon large Ed; and what he had inside that Ed, nobody ever knowed but himself: even supposin himself to have ever took stock of it, which it would have been a stiff job for even him to do.

the picter of the Dwarf, and like him too (considerin), with George the Fourth in such a state of astonishment at him as His Majesty couldn't with his utmost politeness and stoutness express.