“Ah, you 've caught it too!” cried the other, in glee; “did you think you saw a little blue flame before you when your shin was barked?”
“You're a monster!” said the lady, in a tone of passionate indignation.
“Here it is,—I have it,” replied the other, not paying the slightest attention to the endearing epithet last bestowed; “and damn me, if it 's not burned down to the socket. Halloo there, Peter Dodd! You scoundrel, where are you?”
“Call him Saladin,” said the lady, with a sneer, “and perhaps he 'll answer.”
“Imp of darkness, where are you gone to? Peter—Dodd—Dodd—Peter! Ah, you young blackguard! where were you all this time?”
“Asleep, sir; sure you know well, sir, it 's little rest I get,” said a thin, childish voice in answer. “Wasn't it five o'clock this morning when I devilled the two kidneys ye had for supper for the four officers, and had to borrey the kian pepper over the way?”
“I'll bore a gimlet hole through your pineal gland, and stuff it with brass-headed nails, if you reply to me. Anna Maria, that was a fine thought, eh? glorious, by Jove! There, put the candle there, hand your mistress a chair; give me my robe-de'chambre. Confound me, if it's not getting like the kingdom of Prussia on the map, full of very straggling dependencies. Supper, Saladin!”
“The sorrow taste—”
“What, thou piece of human ebony! what do you say?”
“Me hab no—a—ting in de larder,” cried the child, in a broken voice.