Slowgoe. Very proper. It does me good to hear it.
Tickle. And when the ceremony was all over, what now was your thoughts about it?
Nutts. Well, I’ll tell you. For one moment afore the Queen arose, when I looked about me, and saw the officers of state, and the judges, and the bishops, and, above all, the beautiful women, all sparkle and all smiles, seeming angels, only with feathers in their heads and not at their backs—this thought dropped sudden on me, and all for the moment fell into shadow, for I thought, “What a thing is this to think of—that all of you must die!”
Slowgoe. There you are again! Always something bad to say of people above you!
CHAPTER XVIII.
NUTTS reading newspaper; customers drop in.
Mrs Nutts. Now, Mr Nutts; will you drag yourself out of that newspaper? I wish there wasn’t such a thing in the world. I’m sure a man with his wife and family oughtn’t to waste his time with newspapers.
Nutts. (Laying down paper.) Mrs Nutts—but I’m too melancholy to make a noise. Be quiet, my dear, can’t you, and let me enjoy my wretchedness? How d’ye do, Slowgoe? Servant, Mr Peabody. If I should cut you all round to-day, let it go for nothing; for the fact is, the Chancellor’s “Budget’s” quite put my hand out of order.