"I went to school with this fellow, Lawrence Boythorn," said Mr. Jarndyce, tapping the letter as he laid it on the table, "more than five and forty years ago. He was then the most impetuous boy in the world, and he is now the most impetuous man. He was then the loudest boy in the world, and he is now the loudest man. He was then the heartiest and sturdiest boy in the world, and he is now the heartiest and sturdiest man. He is a tremendous fellow."
"In stature, sir?" asked Richard.
"Pretty well, Rick, in that respect," said Mr. Jarndyce; "being some ten years older than I and a couple of inches taller, with his head thrown back like an old soldier, his stalwart chest squared, his hands like a clean blacksmith's, and his lungs! There's no simile for his lungs. Talking, laughing, or snoring, they make the beams of the house shake."

"I went to school with this fellow, Lawrence Boythorn," said Mr. Jarndyce, "five and forty years ago. He was then the most impetuous boy in the world, and the loudest and heartiest, and he is now the most impetuous and loudest and heartiest of men. He is a tremendous fellow."
"In stature, sir?" asked Richard.
"Pretty well, Rick," said Mr. Jarndyce; "being ten years older than I and a couple of inches taller - and his lungs! Talking, laughing, or snoring, they make the beams of the house shake."
