"Thank you, ma'am," replied Tommy.
She conducted him to the top of the kitchen stair, and called down to the cook, saying:
"Susan, this is the new page boy."
"All right, ma'am," answered the cook from the depths below.
Tommy went down and entered a large kitchen in which burned a bright fire. The cook, a good-natured looking woman, sat on one side, and on the other, perched upon a stool, was a lad of sixteen, though his face was old enough to make one think he was twice that age.
"Bobsey," said the cook, "missis says this is the new page boy."
"I knows it," replied Bobsey, with a cheerful air. "Cos vy, I vos a-listenin' at the door all the time they vos a-talkin', and it don't break my 'art. Look at me! Ven I come 'ere I vos fat, now I is that thin my mother thinks of chalkin' my 'ed and lettin' me hout as a billiard cue."
"I'm sure, Bobsey, you 'as plenty to heat and to drink," answered the cook, with a reproachful glance.
"It isn't you I's complaining of, cooky," rejoined Bobsey; "it's the vork. If a cove vants to go for to commit suicide vell, hall he 'as to do is to take a place in a academy for young gentlemen. Sit down, my noble swell from furrin' parts; we hain't a-goin' to heat you, and I don't bear no malice agin' anyone."
Tommy took a seat between the two.