"KEEP OFF! TELL HER TO DROP IT, TWEDDLE!"
For, as he spoke, the goddess had made a stride towards him. "Miserable one!" she cried, "you have mangled one of my birds. Hence, or I crush thee!"
"Tweddle! Tweddle!" cried the youth, taking refuge in the other shop, "don't let her come after me! What's she talking about, eh? You shouldn't have these things about; they're—they're not right!"
Leander shut the glass door and placed himself before it, while he tried to assume a concerned interest. "You take my advice, sir," he said; "you go home and keep steady."
"Is it that?" murmured the customer. "Great Scott! I must be bad!" and he went out into the street, shaking.
"I don't believe I shall ever see him again, either," thought Leander. "She'll drive 'em all away if she goes on like this." But here a sudden recollection struck him, and he slapped his thigh with glee. "Why, of course," he said, "that's it. I've downright disgusted her; it was me she was most put out with, and after this she'll leave me alone. Hooray! I'll shut up everything first and get rid of the boy, and then go in and see her, and get away to Matilda."
When the shop was secured for the night, he re-entered the saloon with a light step. "Well, mum," he began, "you've seen me at work, and you've thought better of what you were proposing, haven't you now?"
"Where is the wretched stripling who dared to slay my dove?" she cried. "Bring him to me!"
"What are you a-talking about now?" cried the bewildered Leander. "Who's been touching your birds? I wasn't aware you kept birds."