Hopkins

Stanley Hopkins drew a slip of paper from his pocket.

"My good Hopkins, I have investigated many crimes, but I have never yet seen one which was committed by a flying creature.

Stanley Hopkins drew from his pocket a drab-covered notebook.

Stanley Hopkins swore between his teeth, and struck his thigh with his clenched hand.

'Best alive,' replied Hopkins. 'Took a boy's leg out of the socket last week--boy ate five apples and a gingerbread cake-- exactly two minutes after it was all over, boy said he wouldn't lie there to be made game of, and he'd tell his mother if they didn't begin.'

That's nothing, that ain't,' said Jack Hopkins. 'Is it, Bob?'

'By the bye, Bob,' said Hopkins, with a scarcely perceptible glance at Mr.

'A necklace,' replied Jack Hopkins. 'Not all at once, you know, that would be too much--you couldn't swallow that, if the child did--eh, Mr.

Captain Hopkins lent me the knife and fork, with his compliments to Mr.

I took back Captain Hopkins's knife and fork early in the afternoon, and went home to comfort Mrs.

Micawber in front of the petition, while my old friend Captain Hopkins (who had washed himself, to do honour to so solemn an occasion) stationed himself close to it, to read it to all who were unacquainted with its contents.

As I walked to and fro daily between Southwark and Blackfriars, and lounged about at meal-times in obscure streets, the stones of which may, for anything I know, be worn at this moment by my childish feet, I wonder how many of these people were wanting in the crowd that used to come filing before me in review again, to the echo of Captain Hopkins's voice!

Luckily he had to deal with you, and with me, and with Daniel and Miss Dancer, and with Elwes, and with Vulture Hopkins, and with Blewbury Jones and all the rest of us, one down t'other come on.

You are worse than Dancer, worse than Hopkins, worse than Blackberry Jones, worse than any of the wretches.