I see him yonder with his pipe pendulous in his hand, and the ashes falling out of it--looking--and looking--then rubbing his eyes--and looking again, with twice the good-nature that ever _Gallileo_ look'd for a spot in the sun.

I see him with his pipe in his hand, and the ashes falling out of it - looking and looking again, with twice the good-nature that ever Galileo looked for a spot in the sun.
