‘What do you mean by that, Sir?’ said Mr. Tuckle, with great asperity.
‘I beg your pardon, Sir,’ replied the crestfallen greengrocer, ‘I didn’t mean to do it, Sir; I was up very late last night, Sir.’
‘I tell you what my opinion of you is, Harris,’ said Mr. Tuckle, with a most impressive air, ‘you’re a wulgar beast.’
‘I hope, gentlemen,’ said Harris, ‘that you won’t be severe with me, gentlemen. I am very much obliged to you indeed, gentlemen, for your patronage, and also for your recommendations, gentlemen, whenever additional assistance in waiting is required. I hope, gentlemen, I give satisfaction.’
‘No, you don’t, Sir,’ said Mr. Tuckle. ‘Very far from it, Sir.’
‘We consider you an inattentive reskel,’ said the gentleman in the orange plush.
‘And a low thief,’ added the gentleman in the green-foil smalls.
‘And an unreclaimable blaygaird,’ added the gentleman in purple.
The poor greengrocer bowed very humbly while these little epithets were bestowed upon him, in the true spirit of the very smallest tyranny; and when everybody had said something to show his superiority, Mr. Tuckle proceeded to carve the leg of mutton, and to help the company.
This important business of the evening had hardly commenced, when the door was thrown briskly open, and another gentleman in a light-blue suit, and leaden buttons, made his appearance.