"I thort I knew his voice," returned Grif.
"And do you know it? Have you had the pleasure of this gentleman's acquaintance?" this said so pleasantly that both the gentlemen smiled.
"Never seed the gentleman afore, as I knows on," said Grif, to whom a lie was of the very smallest consequence.
"What do you do for a living?" asked Mr. Blemish.
"Nothin' partikeler."
"And you find it very hard work, I have no doubt," observed Mr. Blemish.
"Yes, I do; very hard," replied Grif, literally; and then, with sudden exasperation, he exclaimed, "What's the use of badgerin' me? You ain't agoin' to do nothin' for me. Why don't you let me go?"
"Come," said Mr. David Dibbs, who up to this time had taken no part in the dialogue, "I tell you what it is, young feller! You keep a civil tongue in your head, or I'll commit you on the spot. I'm a magistrate, that's what I am, and I'll give you a month, as sure as eggs is eggs, if you don't mind what you're up to!"
"I don't care," responded Grif. "I ain't a-goin' to be badgered."
"You don't care!" exclaimed Mr. David Dibbs, turning as red as a turkey-cock. "Send for the policeman, Blemish. I'll have him put in jail, and flogged. Is a magistrate to be sauced at in this here way?"