[Original]
The lady smiled, sat down at a little distance from him, and glanced at Barnaby with a look of pity.
‘He’s an idiot, the woman says,’ observed the gentleman, shaking his head; ‘I don’t believe it.’
‘Are you his mother?’ asked the lady.
She answered yes.
‘What’s the use of asking HER?’ said the gentleman, thrusting his hands into his breeches pockets. ‘She’ll tell thee so, of course. Most likely he’s hired, at so much a day. There. Get on. Make him do something.’
Grip having by this time recovered his urbanity, condescended, at Barnaby’s solicitation, to repeat his various phrases of speech, and to go through the whole of his performances with the utmost success. The corks, and the never say die, afforded the gentleman so much delight that he demanded the repetition of this part of the entertainment, until Grip got into his basket, and positively refused to say another word, good or bad. The lady too, was much amused with him; and the closing point of his obstinacy so delighted her husband that he burst into a roar of laughter, and demanded his price.
Barnaby looked as though he didn’t understand his meaning. Probably he did not.
‘His price,’ said the gentleman, rattling the money in his pockets, ‘what dost want for him? How much?’