“Sixpence a day,” said his lordship, “is really a great waste of money.”
“It's cruel hard o' me,” returned Joseph, betraying a sudden inclination to whimper. “If I was a lord I'd be a lord, I would.”
“Joseph! Joseph! Joseph!” cried his lordship, sharply.
“It's cruel hard,” said Joseph, whimpering outright. “I'd be a man or a mouse, if I was thee.”
“I shall be generous,” said the aged nobleman, relenting. “I shall give you a suit of clothes. I shall give you a pair of trousers and a waistcoat—a laced waistcoat—and a coat.”
Joseph laughed again, but clouded a moment later.
“Theer's them as pets the back to humble the belly, and theer's them as pets the belly to humble the back,” he said, rubbing his bristly chin on a rung of the ladder as he spoke. “What soort o' comfort is theer in a laced wescut, if a man's got nothing to stretch it out with?”
“Well, well, Joseph,” returned the earl, “sixpence a day is a great deal of money. In these hard times I can't afford more.”
“What I look at,” said Joseph, “is, it robs me of my bit o' bacon. If I was t'ask annybody in Heydon Hay, 'Is Lord Barfield the man to rob a poor chap of his bit o' bacon?' they'd say, 'No.' That's what they'd say. 'No,' they'd say; 'niver dream of a such-like thing as happening Joseph.'”
His lordship fidgeted and took snuff.