Having borne this flattering testimony to the merits of our dwelling-place, and having incidentally shown this tendency to call me "sir," Joe, being invited to sit down to table, looked all round the room for a suitable spot on which to deposit his hat,--as if it were only on some very few rare substances in nature that it could find a resting place,--and ultimately stood it on an extreme corner of the chimney-piece, from which it ever afterwards fell off at intervals.

     "Do you take tea, or coffee, Mr. Gargery?" asked Herbert, who always presided of a morning.

     "Thankee, Sir," said Joe, stiff from head to foot, "I'll take whichever is most agreeable to yourself."

     "What do you say to coffee?"

     "Thankee, Sir," returned Joe, evidently dispirited by the proposal, "since you are so kind as make chice of coffee, I will not run contrairy to your own opinions. But don't you never find it a little 'eating?"

     "Say tea then," said Herbert, pouring it out.

     Here Joe's hat tumbled off the mantel-piece, and he started out of his chair and picked it up, and fitted it to the same exact spot. As if it were an absolute point of good breeding that it should tumble off again soon.