This last was an appeal to the fat boy’s most sensitive feelings. He seemed touched, as he replied emphatically—
‘I knows I has.’
‘Then what can you want to do now?’ said the old lady, gaining courage.
‘I wants to make your flesh creep,’ replied the boy.
This sounded like a very bloodthirsty mode of showing one’s gratitude; and as the old lady did not precisely understand the process by which such a result was to be attained, all her former horrors returned.
‘What do you think I see in this very arbour last night?’ inquired the boy.
‘Bless us! What?’ exclaimed the old lady, alarmed at the solemn manner of the corpulent youth.
‘The strange gentleman—him as had his arm hurt—a-kissin’ and huggin’—’
‘Who, Joe? None of the servants, I hope.’
Worser than that,’ roared the fat boy, in the old lady’s ear.