It was a nice sickly season just at this time. In commercial phrase, coffins were looking up. — Charles Dickens

There is a passion for hunting something deeply implanted in the human breast.

I only know two sorts of boys. Mealy boys, and beef-faced boys.

"If the law supposes that," said Mr. Bumble, squeezing his hat emphatically in both hands, "the law is a ass — a idiot. If that's the eye of the law, the law is a bachelor; and the worst I wish the law is, that his eye may be opened by experience — by experience."