“Not I, squeer. I comes fro’ Suth’ampt’n.”
“And what are your qualifications?”
“I’m Joe Corby.”
“What are your qualifications for the post, I say?”
“All’s one for that. I’m a gawdner, squeer.”
“Do you know a cabbage from a rose?”
“Aye; and a spade from a stallion.”
Mr. Tuke scanned the fellow in silence for a moment.
“And a barrow from a rakehell, I suppose?” said he quietly. “You are too accomplished for me. Whimple, show this person off the premises.”
“Meaning I’m to go?” said the man, in a sort of genial surprise.