'Sit down,' said the fat boy. 'Oh, my eye, how prime! I am SO hungry.'

Having apostrophised his eye, in a species of rapture, five or six times,

the youth took the head of the little table, and Mary seated herself at

the bottom.

Will you have some of this?' said the fat boy, plunging into the pie up

to the very ferules of the knife and fork.

'A little, if you please,' replied Mary.

The fat boy assisted Mary to a little, and himself to a great deal, and

was just going to begin eating when he suddenly laid down his knife

and fork, leaned forward in his chair, and letting his hands, with the

knife and fork in them, fall on his knees, said, very slowly -

'I say! How nice you look!'

This was said in an admiring manner, and was, so far, gratifying; but

still there was enough of the cannibal in the young gentleman's eyes

to render the compliment a double one.

'Dear me, Joseph,' said Mary, affecting to blush, 'what do you mean?'

The fat boy, gradually recovering his former position, replied with a

heavy sigh, and, remaining thoughtful for a few moments, drank a

long draught of the porter. Having achieved this feat, he sighed again,

and applied himself assiduously to the pie.

What a nice young lady Miss Emily is!' said Mary, after a long silence.

The fat boy had by this time finished the pie. He fixed his eyes on

Mary, and replied - 'I knows a nicerer.'

Indeed!' said Mary.

Yes, indeed!' replied the fat boy, with unwonted vivacity.

What's her name?' inquired Mary.

What's yours?'

Mary.'

So's hers,' said the fat boy. 'You're her.' The boy grinned to add point

to the compliment, and put his eyes into something between a squint

and a cast, which there is reason to believe he intended for an ogle.

The Pickwick Papers