'But the name,' said Dick, 'has left but the name--in case of letters or parcels--' 'I never have any,' said the lodger. 'Or in case anybody should call.' 'Nobody ever calls on me.' 'If any mistake should arise from not having the name, don't say it was my fault, sir,' added Dick, still lingering; 'oh, blame not the bard--' 'I'll blame nobody,' said the lodger. But that Mr. Swiveller's knowledge of songs should be both 'extensive and peculiar' is only to be expected from one who held the distinguished office of 'Perpetual Grand Master of the Glorious Apollers,' although he seems to have been more in the habit of quoting extracts from them than of giving vocal illustrations. On one occasion, however, we find him associated with Mr. Chuckster 'in a fragment of the popular duet of "All's Well" with a long shake at the end.' The following extract illustrates the 'shake': ALL'S WELL (DUET). _Sung by Mr. Braham and Mr. Charles Braham._ _Music by Mr. Braham._ [Figure 8] All's well, All's well; Above, below, All, all's well. Although most of Swiveller's quotations are from songs, he does not always confine himself to them, as for instance, when he sticks his fork into a large carbuncular potato and reflects that 'Man wants but little here below,' which seems to show that in his quieter moments he had studied Goldsmith's _Hermit_. Mr. Swiveller's quotations are largely connected with his love-passages with Sophy Wackles, and they are so carefully and delicately graded that they practically cover the whole ground in the rise and decline of his affections. He begins by suggesting that 'she's all my fancy painted her.' From this he passes to She's like the red, red rose, That's newly sprung in June. She's also like a melody, That's sweetly played in tune. then When the heart of a man is depressed with fears, The mist is dispelled when Miss Wackles appears, which is his own variant of If the heart of a man is depressed with care, The mist is dispelled when a woman appears. But at the party given by the Wackleses Dick finds he is cut out by Mr. Cheggs, and so makes his escape saying, as he goes-- My boat is on the shore, and my bark is on the sea; but before I pass this door, I will say farewell to thee, and he subsequently adds-- Miss Wackles, I believed you true, and I was blessed in so believing; but now I mourn that e'er I knew a girl so fair, yet so deceiving. The _denouement_ occurs some time after, when, in the course of an interview with Quilp, he takes from his pocket a small and very greasy parcel, slowly unfolding it, and displaying a little slab of plum cake, extremely indigestible in appearance and bordered with a paste of sugar an inch and a half deep. 'What should you say this was?' demanded Mr. Swiveller.