"Busby," said Cacklin, with a sneer; "a lot he hurts himself. I'd like his job at half the price, and keep my grandmother out of the money."
Depreciation of other people's abilities was a sad failing with Cacklin. He had at various times expressed his willingness to take over the work of many of his superiors and do it with "one hand tied behind him," besides showing them "a thing or two" about office work, if they so desired it.
"Here, what do y' think!" said Billy, suddenly, stuffing his mouth full of bun, "Saw old Polly last night and his girl. Nice little daisy, too, she was. Called him 'Thomas'—'Oh, Thomas!'"
Billy was convulsed for a few minutes at his own vulgar wit; much to the disgust of his companion, whose attitude towards the fair sex was distinctly blasé.
"She's no catch," said Cacklin; "I'd like him to see the little bit of goods I met up at Richmond last Sunday. Great Scott! old man, she was rippin'; and quite a kid—only seventeen. She was fair gone, too; I had a regular howling job to get away from her. Promised to meet her on Thursday, just to get away!"
Cacklin laughed at the recollection of his own subterfuge, and tipped a wink to the waitress, who replied with a haughty stare.
"I say," said Billy, turning in his usual way to other people's affairs; "Early's fairly got it, ain't he?"
"What do you mean by 'fairly got it'?" said Cacklin, annoyed at the indifference of the waitress.
"Why, got it with her—the missis. They went off together this morning in a hansom, as chummy as you like. Handed her in, he did, and put it on like winking when he spoke to the cabman; laughin' and talkin' like blazes, they were."
Cacklin winked again, but this time at Billy Budd.